


Memories of Edelweiss

by LightFromTheShadow



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Character Death, Drama, M/M, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Story within a Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-03-18 21:57:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3585504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightFromTheShadow/pseuds/LightFromTheShadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilbert was entranced from the first moment he saw the Austrian on the stage and swore that he would make the pianist his. The ghosts and memories in Roderich's past, however, hold himself and his heart captive, seemingly unobtainable even as a certain German starts (in a rather roundabout way) on his quest of conquering the unconquerable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Fateful Concert

“Gil? You ready yet?” Gilbert Beilschmidt looked up at the mirror hanging in his bedroom to meet his younger brother’s gaze as he paused in his doorway, already dressed in a snazzy three-piece suit and dress pants, his blond hair slicked back. “Feli is waiting at the door.” Gilbert sighed and turned to face his brother, letting his blue tie slip from his fingers to dangle around his neck.

“I can’t tie it,” he muttered, shifting his gaze as Ludwig sighed and walked into his room, quickly and efficiently tying his older brother’s tie.

“Really, bruder,” Ludwig admonished as he smoothed the tie down across Gilbert’s chest and stepped back to look at his handiwork. “You would think that after thirty years you would know how to tie a tie.” Gilbert rolled his eyes and grinned, patting his brother on the shoulder, ignoring the fact that his younger brother was both taller and broader than him now.

“That’s why I have you to do it for me! What else are younger brother’s for?” Ludwig snorted as he led the way out of the room and down the hallway of the three-bedroom apartment that Gilbert shared with Ludwig and Ludwig’s Italian boyfriend, Feliciano Vargas.

“I already have my hands full with Feliciano,” Ludwig muttered, trying to sound cross but Gil knew that his younger brother was such a softie when it came to his adorable boyfriend. “Oh,” he added, stopping briefly in the hallway and glancing back at Gil. “And thanks for coming with me to this charity concert. Feli feels really strongly about it because he often encounters cancer patients at the children’s hospital he volunteers at.” Gilbert grinned, pushing his brother to keep moving.

“No problem. My presence will only make the whole thing even more awesome.” Ludwig chuckled as they reached the front door where Ludwig’s small Italian boyfriend was already waiting, bobbing up and down excitedly on his toes, his big brown eyes sparkling as he pulled his warm winter jacket tighter around himself.

“Really, thanks so much for coming, Gil!” Feliciano exclaimed as the two German brothers pulled on their shiny dress shoes. “It means a lot.” Gilbert patted the other man on the head before pulling on his own jacket.

“My pleasure,” he reassured the Italian as Ludwig opened the door to the apartment and led the way down to the garage where they piled into the small Volkswagen with Ludwig driving, Feli in the passenger seat and Gilbert taking up the whole back of the car. As the car peeled out of the underground parking garage of the apartment complex, Gilbert gazed out at the grey streets of Vienna.

It was early in the month of March and the clouds were dark and overcast, a cool drizzle sprinkling the already wet pavement of the Austrian capital. It was coming on to six o’clock in the evening and the streetlights were beginning to blink on as the sun disappeared over the horizon behind the clouds. It was a rather dreary scene but Gilbert still enjoyed gazing out at the streets of the old city, filled with so much history…and music.

That was one of the reasons why he had moved to Vienna from Germany five years ago. He loved the feel of the city, the constant reminder that this place had gone through so much over the span of the last five hundred years. Sure, Berlin was like that too, but Vienna had particularly drawn Gilbert in. Maybe a lot of it had to do with Vienna’s rich musical history. Though Gilbert liked to put up a modern and cool front, he was actually quite fond of classical music, having been playing the violin and the flute for fun since he was young. The Viennese Waltzes were a favourite of his and as such, when the opportunity came at his publishing company back in Berlin to move to Vienna, he jumped at the chance.

Gilbert was a printer at the Musical Alliance Publishing House. He oversaw the printing process of the various sheet music and textbooks they printed and was also trained as a technician, an on-call maintenance guy if one of the printers ever happened to somehow break down. Moving his place of work to Vienna gave him both a raise and an opportunity to live in one of the richest places of musical history in the world. _Not like I’d ever tell anyone that_ , Gilbert thought quickly as he listened to Feliciano babble on in the front seat as his brother patiently answered. _I might think old music is awesome but some people don’t._ Luckily, both Feliciano and Ludwig enjoyed hearing the classics and, thanks to Feli’s job, they often got the opportunity to go to rare concerts and performances.

When Gilbert moved to Vienna, Ludwig came with him. Gilbert liked to think that it was because his brother held a high opinion of him, but he was also not blind to the fact that it was probably more likely that Ludwig came along to make sure that Gilbert didn’t get into any trouble. Though Ludwig was younger than him by almost four years, it sometimes seemed, much to Gilbert’s chagrin, that he was the older one. Sure he might be taller, broader, and more cautious and kind of a goody two-shoes but that didn’t make him older. Gil was still his senior and Ludwig would always be his little brother.

But anyways, when Ludwig moved to Vienna with Gilbert, he looked for work as a security guard, the occupation seemingly appropriate thanks to his brawny build. After a bit of searching, he eventually found a job as the personal bodyguard of none other than the well-known model from Milan, Feliciano Vargas. It was love at first sight and one thing led to another and here they all were, five years later, contentedly living together in a nice apartment in the heart of Vienna.

Gilbert was happy with where he was at the moment. Sure, sometimes it got annoying hearing those two go at it at all hours of the day but he couldn’t really blame them. He was maybe just a little bit jealous, but, again, no one needed to know that. He was satisfied with his job for the moment and hanging out with his buds at the bars on the weekends.

“Hey, Feli,” Gilbert said, leaning forwards to poke his head in between the two front seats, “who is putting on this concert?”

“Ah, it’s a concert that’s donating money to fund cancer research, mostly leukemia if I’m not wrong,” Feli responded, tapping his hands on his knees. “There’s a few pretty well-known performers from the Vienna music sphere, but there’s this one guy that I really want to see who the highlight of the show is basically.”

“Yeah? Who’s that?” Gilbert asked. Feliciano paused for a second, tilting his head in thought.

“Ve~ it was kind of an odd-sounding name. Do you remember Luddy?” Feliciano asked his boyfriend hopefully.

“I think his last name was Edelstein or Edelbert or something like that,” Ludwig responded, not taking his eyes off of the road.

“Anyways, so yeah, he’s a pretty well-known composer apparently and he doesn’t really hold concerts though they say he is a virtuoso on the piano. In fact, I think the only concerts he does are charity ones like this one.”

“Huh,” Gilbert said, leaning back again in his seat and turning his head to look back out the window. “Edelstein…I feel like I know that name from somewhere…”

~{*}~

“Roderich? Can I come in?” Roderich Edelstein looked up from where he was sitting in front of the changing room’s mirror.

“Come in,” he quietly said, watching as the door opened and in stepped his manager and publishing agent.

“You almost ready?” Elizaveta Héderváry asked, walking up to stand behind Roderich’s chair. Roderich met her green gaze in the mirror and smiled slightly.

“Having a bit of trouble tying my tie,” he admitted, folding his slightly shaking hands in his lap. Eliza sighed softly and spun Roderich’s chair around so that he was now facing her. She crouched down in front of him, her slender hands deftly knotting the violet silk. “You look pretty,” Roderich said with a small smile, taking in her slender form clad in a knee-length green silk dress with a low cut neck, her long brown hair pulled up in a loose side bun pinned with a silver flower, a few short tendrils of wavy hair escaping to frame her face.

Elizaveta smiled back at him as she patted his tie down smoothly and straightened. “Thanks, dear. You look dashing as well.” Roderich snorted slightly, his smile becoming crooked.

“I don’t feel dashing.” Elizaveta reached down to firmly pat his shoulder.

“Now, now Roderich. No one is here to look at you, they are here to listen to the great composer play in public, an occurrence that happens only once in a long while. And even if they are here to look at you, I assure you that you look very handsome.” Roderich sighed and leaned back in his chair, moving away from her reassuring touch.

“I always get like this before concerts,” he quietly said, his strange violet eyes staring fixedly up at the ceiling. “Even if charity concerts are the only ones I perform at, no matter how many times I may do them, I can never erase this feeling of needing it to be perfect. I can’t mess up.”

“And you never have,” Eliza interjected sternly, causing Roderich to direct his gaze back to her. “You know these pieces inside and out. Use your emotions and memories like you always do and let them carry you through.” Her green eyes softened a bit. “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing here Roderich. I know it might be hard but it’s worth it.” Roderich sighed at that and offered her a small smile as he stood, grabbing his tailcoat from where it hung on a hook beside the mirror and slinging it on.

“I know it is. That doesn’t make it any easier, though.” Elizaveta’s smile faltered at the sad and slightly lost look in the pianist’s violet eyes before threading her arm through the crook of his elbow and leading him out the door.

“They’ll love you Roderich. They always do.”

~{*}~

Gilbert, Ludwig and Feliciano arrived at the large music hall just as the sky became completely dark, the cool drizzle still lightly coming down. As Ludwig pulled into the parking lot across from the hall, Gilbert kept his gaze fixed on the large building with its imposing columns running along the front of the brick structure. The whole building was brightly illuminated in the comparatively dark surroundings by numerous pot lights and streetlamps as a steady trickle of well-covered people entered the building, wrapped up in coats and furs.

The three men stepped out of the car and quickly cut across the street, hopping over the puddles, trying to rescue expensive leather. As they climbed the broad stone steps to the front door, Gilbert tugged his jacket tighter around himself. It wasn’t that he was badly dressed, it was just that he knew that he was kind of playing a part tonight. This type of social scene was more fitting to Feli’s line of business which was why the little Italian seemed to be so at ease. Gil was an average middle-class bachelor. He tried to push away the thought that he didn’t belong here by comforting himself with the fact that Ludwig didn’t look distressed and that no one seemed to think twice about letting them enter at the door where a man in a suit took their jackets to the coat room and another one examined their tickets before waving them through.

They found themselves in a bright and warm carpeted vestibule, comfortable chairs lining the walls and a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. Gil was surrounded by champagne flutes, diamonds, heels, neckties and quiet classical music filtering in between the clink of glasses and the quiet chatter of the guests.

They walked past the pair of huge gilded doors that led to the main concert hall where the local symphony would play on performance nights. Those door were closed at the moment, nothing going on there right then. Feli, having been to this particular hall before, led the way farther into the building where he stopped in front of another set of doors, these ones open. The poster on the stand beside the door proclaimed this to be the Esterhazy Chamber, proudly hosting The Hope for Tomorrow Concert in partnership with the Leukemia Research Foundation, the Vienna Chapter.

“This is the place,” Feli cheerily said as they approached the usher at the door who handed them glossy programs and showed them into the half-filled room. The room was middle sized with maybe two hundred seats sloping down to the front of the room where a grand piano sat in the middle of the open space. A few chairs and music stands stood a little ways away from the piano. The room was dimly lit as

Gilbert, Ludwig and Feliciano took their seats about halfway down to the front, the people already there whispering in hushed voices to each other.

Gil sat on the end of the row, Feli beside him and Ludwig on the other side of Feli. As Feliciano began eagerly perusing the program with Ludwig, Gilbert slowly opened up his own, skimming through the front page, slouching in the cushy chair out of habit. However, as he read through the first page, something caught his eye that made him straighten suddenly, holding the program closer to his face. Wait. He couldn’t have read that correctly. He could have sworn it said… But nope, there it was, plain as day: “Tonight’s evening will be hosted by Elizaveta Héderváry, head publisher at the Musical Alliance Publishing House in Vienna and agent of renowned composer and tonight’s special performer Roderich Edelstein.”

“What?!” Gilbert’s voice had come out a bit louder than intended, causing Feli and Ludwig to turn and stare at him.

“What is it Gil?” Feli asked in a concerned voice as Gilbert kept his eyes glued to the program.

“I know her,” Gilbert whispered frantically, pointing to the offending lines excitedly, shoving the page in Feli’s face. “She works at my publishing company! And the guy, Roderich Edelstein! I just printed a batch of his music this past week.” Feli’s face broke into a wide smile.

“Wow, really? Maybe you could introduce us! I really love his work.” Gilbert stared at Elizaveta’s name and suppressed a shudder.

“I dunno,” he admitted. “Elizaveta is kind of…well, she kind of hates me I think. She calls me annoying whenever she comes down to give me printing orders. I never even did anything to her…” Ludwig sighed from the other side of Feliciano.

“Knowing you, bruder, I’m sure that there is something you must have done.” Gilbert shot a frown at his younger brother before sitting back in his seat and staring some more at the two familiar names. Elizaveta, the pretty Hungarian, he knew pretty well. He could name her on sight. Her composer though, Roderich Edelstein, Gilbert had never met, even though the guy was basically the Holy Grail of their publishing company. Gilbert had heard some of his music and he had enjoyed it but now he was eager to see the face behind the name.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the attendees had taken their seats in the room and the house lights dimmed, leaving only the front of the room where the piano was lit by a single spotlight. And then in walked Elizaveta to polite applause, looking, Gilbert must admit, absolutely gorgeous.

“Wow, that’s her?” Feli whispered to Gilbert excitedly. Gil nodded. “She’s so pretty…”

“ _Willkommen_ , and thank you all for coming.” Elizaveta’s clear voice rang around the room, her hand holding a microphone up to her lips as she looked up at the crowd shrouded in darkness with a pleasant smile. “We have a great number of talented performers lined up for your pleasure this evening, all of them gathered under the cause of raising money for the Leukemia Research Foundation. I thank you all on their behalf for your support of this concert and we hope you all enjoy and will continue with your much needed donations and support. Together, may we work towards the dream that is ever coming closer to fruition: finding a cure for cancer. Thank you.” There was now enthusiastic applause as Elizaveta gave the audience one last smile before making her way out of the spotlight. Gilbert had to admit that she was a good and sincere speaker. She’s still way too ‘holier than thou’ though, Gil thought to himself as the first performer entered from stage right, cello in hand.

Performer after performer entered, played and exited to thunderous applause, the sound of strings, reeds and brass filling the enraptured hall. They were all high-quality performers, the cream of Vienna. But Gilbert was looking ahead to the last performance, the last performer. _Roderich Edelstein. Who are you?_

Finally, nearing the end of the two hour concert, Elizaveta came back into the spotlight, that charming smile still gracing her face.

“As our last performer for this evening, I would like to welcome Roderich Edelstein. But first, I would especially like to thank him. As most of you all know, he is a well-known Viennese composer as well as a piano virtuoso, however he never holds concerts. In fact, the only performances he does are charity ones, such as this. And as such, on behalf of all of us at the Musical Alliance Publishing House and also the Leukemia Research Foundation, I would like to thank him from the bottom of my heart. Tonight, he shall be playing _Chopin’s Nocturne Number 9, Opus 2_ as well as his own composition, _Memories of Edelweiss._ Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Roderich Edelstein.” Elizaveta left the stage to thunderous applause as the pianist walked on, stepping into the spotlight and walking to the piano. He turned to face the audience and bowed, his face completely still then turned to smoothly slide onto the piano bench, flipping his coattails expertly behind him.

Gilbert’s mouth went dry as soon as the man stepped into view and he felt a peculiar lurching in his stomach as he watched the dark-brown haired man gracefully move across the stage, his slender figure clad in a black pea coat with a silk purple tie, a deep violet that accentuated the colour of his eyes behind his glasses which Gilbert could make out from here. _Oh come on_ , Gil thought despairingly as he watched the man lift up long slender fingers to hover over the ivory keys. _How is it possible for a guy to be that beautiful?_ He could feel his own heartbeat increasing, his heart frantically pumping blood around his oxygen starved body as he forgot how to breathe, completely entranced by the figure seated at the piano. And then he began to play.

Chopin’s piece was familiar to him, a favourite even. But now it was as if he were hearing it for the first time. The emotions that seemed to be pouring from his fingers… The feelings threatened to drown Gilbert, drown him until he was floundering helplessly in a sea of violet and lavender. And yet, the man’s body was so still, moving only slightly, like a branch in a light wind. It was obvious that Roderich knew the piece inside and out, his eyes closing every now and then as he became one with the sounds emanating from the beautiful instrument. Gilbert knew that he was leaning forwards in his seat, his hands gripping the armrests like a lifeline as if he was holding himself back from dashing down there and holding the other man in his arms and confessing his undying love right then and there. But Gilbert couldn’t look away. He was enraptured, trapped, and happy to lose himself in this vision that washed away everything else.

The piece ended to a roaring applause as Roderich paused to acknowledge their praise before calling for silence by lifting his hands again to the keys. Those hands…Gil suddenly had visions of those same slender fingers running over his own body while a yet unknown voice whispered unidentifiable words in his ear. Gilbert jerked himself out of there quickly, his cheeks flushing red, grateful for the darkness of the room as Roderich began the first bars of the next piece, the piece that he himself had composed.

It was almost as if a story was unfolding itself before him. It started with a quiet march that seemed to slide by, echoing of loneliness and monotony. However, it wasn’t long before there were bursts of brilliant colour entwined with a fast child-like melody that swooped up to cover everything else. This melody engulfed every one of Gil’s senses, entrancing him and putting a small smile on his face as those fingers danced along the ivory. But then this happiness disappeared almost as suddenly as it had come, vanishing into a minor-filled passage of sadness that bespoke of tears and sorrows, hardships and disappointments which seemed to speak to Gilbert’s very soul. Then, in the last few bars of the piece, in the last few phrases, sun broke through the clouds as the major returned to set things to right and wrote over scars, lending the ending a hope that had somewhat vanished just before. The sounds of the piano swelled, becoming larger, the chords thunderous, the notes reaching for the unreachable. Gilbert could almost see the mountains rising in the distance as the music ventured over them and emerged triumphant, surrounded by nothing but green grass, blue sky and the small white edelweiss. And then it was over.

Roderich rose from the piano to a standing ovation, Gilbert almost leaping out of his seat as the applause washed over him, trying to be the loudest, trying to get those bewitching violet eyes, that calm and cool expression to look at him. For he was sure that if he could just meet those eyes, even for just one second, he would feel a click. They both would. And as he watched Roderich bow slightly to the exuberant applause he was receiving, that smile, so distant but beautiful, gracing his aristocratic features, Gil knew that he was falling. That he had fallen. Fallen so far that he wanted to hold him in his arms, press him against a wall and make a shameless mess of him. That he was hopelessly in love with this man that he had never seen before. That passion that trickled from those fingers, the slenderness of that body, that small mole under his lips, that little kink in his dark brown hair, that distance in his stance and that look of melancholy that lurked behind those entrancing violet eyes…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> This is my first actual human AU fic so I'm pretty excited to be writing it.  
> All feedback would be greatly appreciated!  
> Thanks for reading!!


	2. A (Un)Fateful Meeting

“Thank you all for coming and supporting this concert and have a very good evening.” Gilbert stood there for a brief moment as Elizaveta smiled once more at the concertgoers before leaving the spotlight of the stage. He stared at the grand piano as the houselights came on, his body unmoving as the crowd around him relaxed and broke into quiet chatter as people began to leave.

Gil felt a hand touch his arm. “Gilbert? What’s the matter?” Gilbert jolted at Feli’s touch and stared down at the smaller man with wide crimson eyes, his mouth opening before closing again, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion.          

“I…I…” Gil felt Ludwig looking at him in concern and Gilbert met his brother’s blue gaze helplessly. Oh god, all he could see were hypnotizing violet eyes behind glasses... “I’ve gotta go find Eliza…” He muttered, suddenly becoming unfrozen and almost dashing up the aisle heading for the doors as he struggled to beat the other people also beginning to leave. He heard his brother call out his name behind him but he didn’t stop as he burst out finally into the carpeted hallway, glancing up and down the hall frantically.

Crap, he had no idea where to go… He turned his back to where they had come in, figuring if he went deep enough into the building he would eventually find the doors leading backstage…

He tried to keep himself at a brisk walk, restraining his legs from breaking into a mad, pointless dash that would make people think that he was crazy. He followed the paneled hallway down, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He felt as if his whole world had been turned upside down within the span of a fifteen-minute performance. Even Gil thought that he was losing it as he suddenly turned a corner only to see the elegant frame of Elizaveta walking away from him. Who on earth in their right mind fell in love so quickly?  _Well, I’m not exactly the most sane person around,_ Gil thought ruefully to himself as he allowed his leather-covered feet to finally extend into a run to catch up to her.  _Just ask Franny and Toni._

“Elizaveta!” The call burst from Gilbert’s mouth, sounding just a bit too loud for the quiet hallway. The brown-haired Hungarian turned around quickly, her green eyes widening in shock as she spotted Gilbert running towards her.

“Gilbert!” She exclaimed as Gil skid to a stop in front of her, a cocky smile appearing on his face. “What on earth are you doing here?” Her tone became suspicious as her green eyes narrowed.

“I was at the concert with my younger brother and his boyfriend,” he explained, drawing back his shoulders as if daring her to comment on his presence at a classical concert. “I was surprised to see  _you_ here though. And as the MC no less.” Elizaveta frowned at him, putting her hands on her slender hips indignantly. The amount of sass that the woman possessed in just the way she stood was incredible.

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” She demanded. Gilbert shrugged, smirking, his crimson eyes flashing.

“Nothin’. I just never expected to see you involved in such a…charitable event.” Elizaveta gave an annoyed sigh, rolling her eyes.

“Really Gilbert,” she lamented. “Won’t you ever grow up?” She stuck her nose up in the air, pushing a few escaped tendrils of brown hair out of her eyes. “I am Roderich’s agent so of course I would be involved. And I also do volunteer work with the Leukemia Research Society in my spare time  _Mr._ Belischmidt.” Oh god, even the mere sound of the pianist’s name was enough to make Gilbert go weak at the knees. This was very bad. “What did you want?” Gilbert blinked at the question, his cheeks suddenly flushing though he tried to make his voice as steady as possible.

“Ah, yes. I was just wondering if I could meet your little master who played so…stoically today. You made him out to sound like a great guy so I want to meet him in person.” That sounded normal enough, right? Elizaveta was looking at him suspiciously though. “A-And I also would like to meet the composer whose sheet music I print almost every day. You know, like, putting a face to a name?” Gil watched as Eliza examined him for a few moments in silence, a small frown on her face as she looked for any devious expressions crossing the German's face. Gil made sure his face was as still as possible. Then she sighed, rolling her emerald eyes one more time.

“Damn, I can’t think of anything to say against that,” she muttered. Gilbert grinned in triumph.

“Now, now Eliza,” he cheekily admonished as the woman led him farther down the hallway towards the changing rooms. “You can’t let others hearing you sound so crude. What will they think of their elegant philanthropic hostess?” Elizaveta shot a glare over her shoulder at Gilbert.

“Watch it Beilschmidt,” she muttered. “I can still change my mind.” Gilbert grinned when she turned around. Why was it so much fun to get her mad?

They were about to go through another set of fancy doors that were labeled as the changing rooms but before Eliza could put a hand on the doorknob, the door was pushed open from the inside. Eliza stepped back to let whoever it was come out. Gilbert felt his heart drop to his feet as out walked the very same Austrian that had stopped it not fifteen minutes ago.

“Oh, Eliza, I brought your jacket…” Roderich trailed off as his violet eyes encountered Gilbert’s red ones. Their gazes held for a split second that felt to Gilbert like an eternity, a blush immediately sweeping over his face. Roderich was dressed in a long, elegant black jacket that covered his suit, leather gloves held in one hand, a fur jacket held in the other. Up close, he was even more beautiful than when Gil had first seen him on the stage, if that were at all possible. He was physically holding himself back from dropping to his knees and begging for Roderich to let him take him.

“Ah, Roderich, thanks,” Eliza said, taking the jacket from Roderich’s hands. She then motioned to Gilbert. “Roderich, this is Gilbert Beilschmidt, the head printer at the publishing company and the guy who takes care of most of the formatting of your work. Gil, this is Roderich Edelstein. Though you of course already knew that.” Gil watched as Roderich’s entrancing violet eyes widened in surprise as a small, polite smile crossed his face.

“Oh, I see.” Roderich’s gaze moved back to Gilbert, holding him captive. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to where they actually print the music before. Nice to meet you Mr. Beilschmidt.” Gilbert stared down at the proffered hand: white, long-fingered, elegant, nimble… Oh dear. Before Gil could even think of what he was doing, that hand was suddenly in one of his own and he was bringing it up to his lips. It was a cold hand. Like the ivory of piano keys. Gilbert softly brushed his lips over the back of that hand, a grin crossing his lips as his senses returned. Wily crimson eyes looked up into shocked violet ones as Gilbert paused, his lips inches above the hand.

“It’s Gilbert. And the pleasure is all mine,” he smoothly said, straightening as he slowly let his hand drop the other one, a crooked grin still on his face.

“I…” Roderich’s look of confusion was almost his undoing; those dark eyebrows drawing together over those strange eyes that flitted between Gilbert and Elizaveta, their violet depths swimming with questions. Eliza was also staring at Gilbert in surprise, a light blush tinging her cheeks. But Gil only had his eyes on Roderich.

“How ‘bout me and you go out for a drink?” He suggested casually though still trying to make his tone as sultry as possible. This always worked for Franny. Why not him too? That confused and almost trapped look was still on Roderich’s face, only serving to make Gil more determined.

“E-Excuse me…?”

“Roddy!”  _Roddy…?_ Suddenly, from behind them, a small female appeared and leaped straight into Roderich’s arms. Gilbert watched in shock as a slight woman, maybe in her early twenties (though it was kind of hard to tell, she was so small), threw her arms around Roderich’s neck and kissed his cheek affectionately. She had green eyes and blond hair that was cut in a bob around her chin with a blue bow pinned to the side of her head. Dressed in a lacy green dress, she almost looked like a doll. Like, one of those perfect glass ones you find in antique shops or in old ladies’ homes.

“Lilli!” Eliza exclaimed happily.  _Lilli…_ Gilbert watched, stepping back a bit in confusion, as Roderich’s face broke into a gentle smile, and expression that Gilbert hadn't yet witnessed on the musician's face before as Roderich's own arms wrapped around the smaller girl, holding her tightly. _What…?_

“Hello Eliza!” The girl said excitedly, stepping back to earth but still keeping a slender arm tucked through Roderich’s. “Wasn’t Roderich absolutely wonderful?” Eliza echoed her praise which Roderich reluctantly accepted, that small smile still on his face. Gilbert felt his feet slowly carry him backwards as his mind whirled, trying to make sense of the situation.

Who was that chick? That  _Lilli…_ Sister? No, they didn’t look anything alike. Step-sister? Cousin? Second cousin? Gilbert desperately tried to avoid the possibility of  _lover_ entering his thoughts but it sure as hell wasn’t easy. He felt his heart become a thing of glass, liable to splinter into a thousand pieces at the slightest pressure.  _Oh come on Gilbert. You’re too awesome to feel threatened by her. I’m sure there’s…some explanation…_

“We’re going home right?” Gilbert heard the new girl’s question and was suddenly aware of the trio walking past him as they started back down the hallway.  _They live together? Her and Roderich?_

“Yes, though…” Roderich trailed off as he noticed Gilbert still standing there against the wall. He nodded once at him, his gaze flitting for a brief moment over his second-hand suit and leather shoes bought at the local department store. Or, at least, that’s what Gil thought he was looking at. “It was…a pleasure Mr. Beilschmidt,” he stated as they walked past, turning his head back around, that girl still clinging to his arm.

“See you, Gil,” Elizaveta called over her shoulder as they disappeared around the corner, apparently heading for the back exit. Gilbert found himself alone in the silent hallway, staring after them stupidly, not quite sure what had just happened.

Gil’s legs suddenly lost strength and he slithered down to the floor, his back brushing against the wall as he landed on the carpet in a crumpled heap. He drew his knees up to his chin, wrapping his arms tightly around his folded legs and stared at the gold wallpaper across the hallway. Well, he more glared at it. In fact, he was kind of surprised that the wallpaper didn’t start smoking or something.

“Who the hell was she?” He muttered angrily, clenching his hands. “She didn’t even look real. And it was going so good too… He was right on the edge of going out with me.” Gilbert slowly knocked the back of his head against the wall once and stared up at the roof of the hallway, staring at one little pot light. _Wow, that was actually pretty unawesome…_ He was shut down before he could even get started. A small part of his mind tried to valiantly argue that Roderich hadn’t actually  _rejected_ him. It was more like he didn’t have any time to before that girl showed up out of the blue.  _Dammit._

“Ve~ Luddy there he is!” Gilbert jumped back up to his feet as his brother and his boyfriend came walking around the corner, straightening his jacket and rolling his shoulders, trying desperately to save face.

“Gilbert,” his brother said sternly, handing him his coat which he had since recovered from the coat room. “Don’t go wandering off like that. Feliciano was worried you had been kidnapped.” Gilbert had to smile at that, patting Feliciano’s head reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, Feli,” he said confidently, shrugging on his jacket. “I’m too awesome to be kidnapped.” They started walking back towards the entrance of the music hall, just a few straggling concertgoers loitering around in the lobby.  _Jewels, cravats, champagne…_ They stepped out into the dark night, the drizzle still falling from the black sky, the air chill and damp. Hurrying across the street to their car, the three men bundled themselves in, Ludwig starting up the heater as soon as he started the car.

“Wasn’t that nice?” Feliciano happily asked from the front seat as Ludwig pulled out of the parking lot. Ludwig grunted in agreement. Gilbert didn’t say anything, his eyes trained on the right-hand windows of the car. “Gilbert?” Gil jumped, not realizing Feli had asked him a question.

“Huh? What?”

“I was just saying that the concert was nice.” Gilbert leaned back in his seat slowly, turning his head to again gaze out the window.

“Yeah. Yeah it was.” Gilbert watched the streets of Vienna flow past, the light from the streetlamps watered down and blurry through the rain that was steadily coming down. He tried to track the raindrops as they slid down the windows, mentally racing them against each other, but he gave up as soon as he realized that the drops didn’t know that they were supposed to be racing. Besides, it made his head hurt. And as he gazed out the window, blocking out the sound of Feliciano incessantly talking to Ludwig, Gilbert thought about Roderich. Beautiful, talented, cool, perfect Roderich. An angel sent down to earth in the form of a composer, blessing mankind. The perfect little prince with a perfect little princess to go with it.  _Girlfriend?_ The fact that Gilbert himself thought they were together was like a knife in his heart.  _Girlfriend, huh?_ Yes, he might as well be an angel, for he was just as unobtainable.

~{*}~

Roderich sat in the backseat of the Lincoln, his driver manoeuvering the streets of Vienna to get him to his own large house on the outskirts of the city. Lilli sat beside him, bundled in a warm fur coat that seemed to totally cover her small frame. Elizaveta had left them after they had exited the music hall, congratulating and thanking Roderich one more time before speeding off in her Mustang, ever the independent woman. Roderich watched the rain drizzle down the window of the car, leaving little trails of water. It was funny how one droplet would leave behind a trail and then another one would come along, absorbing what it had left behind into itself as it left behind its own baggage. Nothing was ever lost.

“Hey, Roderich.” Roderich glanced over at Lilli who was looking up at him, a serious expression on her face.

“Yes?” He quietly asked, frowning a bit.

“You really did a wonderful job tonight,” she said, reaching over to take one of Roderich’s gloved hands into her own smaller ones and giving it a squeeze. “It was perfect.” Roderich smiled at her even as a wave of sadness washed over him as he took in that same bobbed hair, those same green eyes…

“I’m glad,” he whispered, putting his other hand on top of their clasped ones. Lilli unbuckled her seat belt to shift over to the seat directly beside Roderich, buckling back in before laying her head on his shoulder, their hands still entwined.

“I think brother would have been proud.” Roderich’s heart paused for a moment as he gripped Lili’s hands tighter, a lump rising in his throat as he looked back out the window, Lilli’s warmth seeping into the chillness of his heart. He watched the wet streets slide by even as in his mind’s eye he saw mountains, a lake and a hill covered with edelweiss, and laughing green eyes that encompassed it all. And his thoughts couldn’t be farther away from the strange, presumptuous white-haired German that had so quickly waltzed into his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I get a yay for a major cockblock? Poor Gil.  
> Anyways, as I was writing the chapter outlines for this fic (which I'm still working through), I realized 2 things:  
> 1\. this is going to be very long. Like really long. So thanks in advance to those who stick with me!  
> 2\. this fic is as much a SwissAus fic as it is a PruAus one. So much so in fact that I think I probably could have gotten away with making the SwissAus a prequel of sorts but I really want the stories to intertwine.  
> So exams start up in April so I won't have much time for writing (if I do what I'm actually supposed to be doing eg. studying) but I can promise an update at least once every 2 weeks though they will usually come once every week.  
> And most of my Author Notes won't be this long I promise.  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. A Fruitless Effort (in Forgetting)

 The next day was a Friday. Usually that fact would have made Gilbert eager to go to work, knowing that in just a few hours he would be liberated for the weekend. However, that particular Friday morning found Gil groggily crawling from his bed at ten to seven in the morning, having had trouble falling asleep after getting home from the concert the night before. Whenever he closed his eyes, all he saw were violet eyes and bobbed blonde hair, taunting him mercilessly as he dreamt up numerous far-fetched schemes that all seemed doom to fail as soon as he started to try.

                He said a bleary goodbye to Ludwig who had gotten up, as usual, to make his breakfast as Feli slumbered away back in their bedroom before making his way downstairs to the parking garage and dragging himself into his old ’90 Volkswagen Golf. Sure his baby was old but it ran just fine and she looked pretty good with the new black paint job he’d just given her, even if Gil did say so himself. So he made his way to work in his small car, the streets damp from the night’s previous rain but the sky clear and blue now, the receding dark clouds hanging low over on the western horizon.

                Gilbert was still going through the motions as he parked his car underground and made his way through the doors and up the echoing concrete stairs that led from the parking garage up into the main building of his publishing company. Not that he had far to go for the place where he worked, where all the printers actually were, was located in the basement of the five story building, taking up the majority of the hundred metre square bottom of the building. The main floor level comprised of a place open to the general public with a welcome desk and meeting rooms for prospective clients and buyers in the back. The second floor housed various offices for the ‘important people’, namely the manager and a few select agents. Eliza’s office was on this floor. The third floor was partly a sort of kitchen/lunchroom thing conjoined with an open workspace which was where all of the arranging, formatting and editing took place. The fourth floor was a sort of studio/music room where such composers as wanted to could come in and make last minute revisions of their work or agents could hear proposals more conveniently. The fifth floor held the vast archives of the company: all of the sheet music and textbooks that the twenty-five-year-old company had ever printed ended up here in the end, to be brought out and dusted off whenever needed. Though of course, with the arrival of the computer, these hard copies weren’t so essential anymore. But it was still nice to have. Gil usually spent the most of his time in the basement though a good portion of his work also took place up on the third floor, working on the formatting of the different pieces and works he was printing with the editors. Elizaveta also called him to her office every now and then whenever she wanted something to be changed or to give him a heads-up about something or the other. But the majority of Gil’s time was spent in the printing room.

                Gilbert suppressed a sigh as he entered the big, factory-like room, the printing machines already humming in the background as the fifteen or so workers began their day, the lists of orders for that day pinned up to the board and divided amongst them. Gil was kind of like the overseer, the go-to man whenever something went wrong and also the contact between the upper and lower floors. He normally loved his job, the fast-paced environment and the combination of physical and mental labour. But today, he just wasn’t feeling it.

                “Hey Gil!” One of his buddies said as Gilbert shucked off his jacket in the small coatroom off to the side before meandering over to the corkboard and scanning the list under his name.

                “Yo,” he muttered as his reddish eyes flitted down the list.  _Pianos, flutes, violins, textbooks, pianos…wait._ Gil backtracked suddenly with his eyes to where the last item on the list had been hurriedly scrawled in with red pen. He squinted his eyes, rubbing them briefly as if trying to clear his vision. There was no way… “ _Memories of Edelweiss?”_ His voice sounded hoarser than usual, and it wasn’t just because of his lack of sleep. His friend leaned over his shoulder to take a look.

                “By Roderich Edelstein… oh yeah! Elizaveta was down here just a few minutes before you showed up and wrote that in. She was mumbling something about increased orders because of some concert last night or something.” Gil walked over to his machine and picked up his folder of work for the day, flipping through the scores and sheets until he reached the last one. He felt a wry smile cross his face as he read the name of the piece that had stolen his heart the night before and the name of the man that had composed and played it.

                Gilbert lightly ran a finger over the name, barely touching the crisp white paper with his hands that would soon become dirty with ink, whispering the name slowly to himself. “ _Roderich Edelstein.”_ A short laugh burst from his mouth as he snapped the folder shut and started up the big printer, performing the quick, routine maintenance without a second thought. “Just my luck.”

~{*}~

                “Come, come  _mon chérie._ You cannot tell us that there is nothing the matter.”

                “ _Sí_   _amigo._ Your expression alone is enough to make even  _me_ feel terrible.”

                Friday nights were always spent with Gil’s two best friends: the Frenchman, Francis Bonnefoy, and the Spaniard, Antonio Carriedo. The two had been friends before Gil had arrived in Austria. Through mutual friends (Antonio was actually in a relationship with Feli’s older brother, Lovino Vargas, who was a fashion designer back in Italy), the three had met and become instant best friends and drinking buddies. You could always find them in some backside bar on most weekends, carousing and generally just having a good time.

                Right at that moment though, Gil was sitting at the bar, a mug of beer in his hand and his head laying on his arm, despondently sprawled out across the countertop. His friends sat on either side of him, exchanging grins as Gilbert mumbled to himself under his breath.

                “Seeing his name all fucking day. It’s as if the universe is taunting me.” He sat back up slowly and took a swig of beer, pausing to glare up at the ceiling. “That blonde chick has nothing on the awesome me,” he said, a little bit too loudly, slamming his mug back on the table with a heavy thud.

                “Now, now Gilbert,” Toni gently admonished, patting Gil gently on the shoulder. “There’s no use in shouting.”

                “ _Oui,_ he is right. Why don’t you tell us what on earth you’re going on about?” Gilbert heaved a sigh that seemed to come from the very bottom of his feet as he pressed his eyes closed with the heel of his palms.

                “That concert that I went to yesterday…” He trailed off, suddenly worried his friends would tease him. They were good guys but they also knew how to poke fun at others. Not that Gil was a saint, of course. In fact, he was probably the worst of the three when it came to getting a rise out of somebody. But right now he didn’t think he could handle any ridicule. That brush-off yesterday really damaged his ego, even as much as he loathed to admit it.

                “The one you went to with Feli?” Antonio asked, tilting his head curiously as he tilted his own mug up slowly, not planning on getting wasted that night. Gilbert nodded, frowning at the wooden grain of the old counter.

                “And…?” Francis prompted, nudging him encouragingly. Gil sighed again, plopping his head back down on folded arms.

                “There was a guy…one of the performers. He played the piano and he only does charity concerts and he was like a perfect little prince up there and…” There was an exaggerated gasp from Francis, making Gil straighten slightly in order to glare at him from the corner of his eyes. “It’s not funny,” he muttered. Francis laughed lightly, patting Gil’s cheek.

                “ _Non, non mon ami. Au contraire!_ I am simply surprised. Our little Gilbert has fallen in love!” Francis grinned over at Antonio who was also smiling.

                “So? Did you go get him?” The Spaniard eagerly asked. Gil avoided their gazes once more, his cheeks flushing slightly as he frowned.

                “I tried! But before I could get him to agree to go out for drinks his  _girlfriend_ showed up and he never looked twice at me as he walked away.” His friends didn’t say anything for a moment, pondering this development as Gil stared miserably into his beer. He didn’t know what had really come over to him, to be honest. All he knew was that he had never felt this way before, especially not so quickly. And to have constant reminders of the guy everywhere he went…

                “This girl…” Francis slowly said. “She is pretty?” Gil nodded.

                “Perfect.”

                “And you’re sure that they’re together?” Toni asked. Gilbert shrugged, nodding slightly.

                “Yeah. At least, I’m almost certain. I mean, they were talking about going home together and stuff. And the way she was clinging onto him…” Even he himself was aware of the raw note of longing tinging his voice as he trailed off again.

                “Ah, and another one joins the ranks,” Francis said, clapping Gil on the shoulder.

                “Huh?”

                “Love-struck, Gil. You’ve been whacked by  _Cupido._  Like me and Lovi!” Gilbert rolled his eyes.

                “Yeah, but you and Lovi are together aren’t you? Do you see me on a date right now?” Francis nudged him with his shoulder.

                “Then you are like me and my serious little English lawyer. That man is as stubborn as they get, _mon dieu…”_ Gil sighed.

                “But aren’t you two at least on speaking terms? Or, like, you see each other all the time, right?” Francis’ mouth quirked up in a wry smile.

                “We see each other, yes. But I fear it is mostly me doing the talking. Arthur just won’t admit that he’s passionately in love with me.” Gil chuckled humorously.

                “Well then, you’re better off than me and Roderich, apparently.” Antonio hummed thoughtfully from beside him.

                “So that is his name. Roderich.” Antonio grinned. “Yup, sounds like a musician.”

                “ _Mon chérie,_  you must look on the bright side,” Francis said, slinging an arm around Gil’s shoulder suddenly. “Who knows what could happen in the future?”

                “ _Sí!_ For instance, maybe one day you will be walking down the street and there he will be, looking hopelessly lost…”

                “Or  _peut être_ someone will have stolen his wallet and then you will arrive all of a sudden…”

                “And save him like a gallant prince, sweeping him off of his feet as you defeat the villain and profess your undying love for him…”

                “And, overcome with gratitude, he will accept you gratefully and you shall both ride off into the sunset on your white horse  _comme dans les contes de fées!”_ Gilbert gave his friends a withering look, sinking lower in his chair.

                “Now you guys are just making fun of me.” Francis nudged the German affectionately with his shoulder, upset to see his normally boisterous friend looking so obviously depressed.

                “Stranger things have happened, Gil,” he said comfortingly, glancing at Antonio, urging him to say something.

                “Ah, s _í!_ You never know what will happen Gilbert. Don’t give up just yet.” Antonio’s green eyes suddenly widened and he looked quickly at his watch. “ _Mierda!_ I have to get going. Gotta get to sleep early because my flight is leaving early in the morning tomorrow.”

                “You are going to go see Lovino for the weekend?” Francis asked, a suggestive smile on his face. Antonio grinned back, standing up and patting Gil on the back who was back to glaring at his beer.

                “I’ll be back Sunday night, so I’ll see you guys later. Have a good weekend. Take care of Gil, Franny,” he added with a sympathetic smile down at the pale-haired German. “Bye!” Francis watched the Spaniard go with a wry smile on his face.

                “Ah, the beautiful mystery that is requited love.” Turning his attention back to his miserable friend, Francis suddenly grabbed Gil’s elbow and dragged him up to his feet. “Now Gilbert!” He said, holding his friend’s head tightly in his hands and giving it a little shake. “Let us go on to the next bar and get ourselves wondrously drunk and not sober up until the weekend is over. Onwards and upwards,  _mon ami!_ ” Gil looked at his friend for a few moments before a grin of his own crossed his face. Lightly punching Francis on the chest, he pushed all other thoughts out of his mind besides the ones pertaining to getting beautifully intoxicated and the oblivion that comes with it.

                “Come Francis,” he said, dragging the Frenchman out of the bar and into the cool evening air. “Time to drown away our sorrows and disappointments like men!”

                And that’s what the two of them did. When the bars eventually closed early Saturday morning, Gil found himself dragged over to Francis’ place where he unceremoniously crashed on the couch in his living room. The two of them hung around listlessly all day watching bad TV shows, finally deciding on soap operas after a semi-violent fight over cartoons vs cooking shows. Evening came and out they went again, semi-unintentionally becoming the centre of attention wherever they went, girls always seeming to gravitate towards them. It was even worse when Antonio was there too with his easy smile and exotic looks but Francis and Gilbert were by no means bad-looking. They both ate up the attention though neither of them ever meant anything by it, content to look and be praised from a distance as both of their hearts were elsewhere at the moment.

                Gil allowed himself to float along in this way for the whole of the weekend, enjoying the lack of anything to do or anywhere to be. He regarded the looming Monday morning with reluctance, stemming from the unavoidability of facing things he wanted to forget but, for some reason, couldn’t.

~{*}~

                Sunday evening found Roderich leaning against the granite island in his kitchen, slowly speed-dialing Elizaveta’s number on his cell. He listened to the ringtone drone as he stared out through the kitchen window that looked out onto his backyard.  _The grass is getting green now,_ he idly thought as there came a click from the other end of the line as Eliza picked up.

                “Roderich?”

                “Yes, Eliza, it’s me.” He began to tap his finger lightly on the dark grey granite, hoping his agent and friend wouldn’t throw a hissy fit over what he was going to say.

                “What’s up?” She asked, her voice threaded through with concern.  _Really, she worries too much about us,_ Roderich thought, a small smile crossing his face.             

                “It’s about tomorrow. I’m not going to be able to come by the publishing company to drop off the new score for you. I think I’m coming down with something and I don’t think I should go anywhere.” Roderich rolled his eyes as he heard a longsuffering sigh come from the person on the other end of the line.

                “Really Roddy. It’s probably because you don’t get out enough that you get sick so easily.” Roderich didn’t answer, waiting patiently for Elizaveta to tell him that she would come over tomorrow on her lunch break to pick it up.

                “There’s no helping it, I guess. I’ll be over on my lunch to pick it up.” Roderich smiled softly up at the ceiling. What a girl.

                “Thanks, Eliza. That really helps me out a lot.” Another sigh came from the Hungarian.

                “No problem Roderich. You know, I also do this for Lilli too. She has enough work to do without you constantly sending her out to drop off your scores for you. You need to take better care of yourself.”

                “Of course, dear,” Roderich lightly responded, though a bit of guilt niggled at him. She was right of course. Then again, she always was when it came to himself and Lilli. They said goodbye and hung up, Roderich slowly leaving the kitchen and walking down the wood-floored hallway and into his music room where he took a seat on the piano bench, staring down at the black and white keys, idly touching one lightly with his index finger. He hadn’t really told the whole truth. Yes, he had a bit of a headache at the moment but that would probably be gone by morning. No, the truth was that he just didn’t like going over to Eliza’s offices. It wasn’t that he was lazy…well, maybe that was a tiny bit of the problem. But no, it was mostly the amount of  _noise_ that always seemed to encompass the building. Phones ringing, people talking and moving around constantly, music ever echoing in the background, all of the tones and notes rising into a cacophony that he just wasn’t used to. Roderich closed his eyes and listened to the absolute  _silence_ that encompassed him now. Lilli would be home from her shift soon but even then it was always quiet in here except for the moments when it was broken by Roderich’s music. He was used to this kind of quiet, a quiet that would only be broken by sounds that he would create. Gently raising his hands to the keys he played a soft major chord, listening to the silence that was gently broken by his own choosing.  _Maybe I_ should  _get out more…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> comme dans les contes de fées - like in fairytales
> 
> Omg so yeah this fic is sitting at 63 chapters atm...that may or may not change, we shall see.  
> Well, school is over so now time to study for exams...if I can find the willpower where I left it at the beginning of the school year. Whoops.  
> Thanks for reading!


	4. A Happy Chance

Needless to say, Gilbert was very hung over when Monday morning finally rolled around, having crawled into his own bed at ten Sunday night and then having to wake up at the absurdly hour of ten to seven by Ludwig’s insistence that he had to get up right now otherwise he would be late for work. He flinched at the bright lights of the printing room, scarfing down the coffee he had gotten on his way to work as he tried to think around the hum of the printers and the chatter of people.

                To add onto his problems, if any recollection of his crush on the pianist had managed to flee from his mind throughout the course of the weekend, it wasn’t going to stay that way for very long here at work. Gilbert heard and saw his name  _everywhere._ It was like he was attuned to the sound of the vowels and consonants that made up the name, his ears perking and his heart pausing whenever he heard it mentioned among the workers, his eyes backtracking whenever they saw the name on sheets, going over it once more as if engraining it even more into his mind.

                 _This is_ so  _unawesome,_ Gil thought to himself in annoyance as he once again found a piece written by said composer in his pile of work about a half hour before his lunch break was due to start. His headache and nausea had cleared for the most part throughout the course of the morning but all that was left in its place was a sort of lethargic state that was, in Gilbert’s opinion, even worse.  _I’ve gotta get my head together,_ he told himself sternly as the printer whirred. Was this normal? Could people really fall in love so fast, after having spoken barely two dozen words put together? Gilbert didn’t know if it was normal and frankly he didn’t really give a fuck. He was never one for going with the mainstream. But now that he knew what he wanted, there arose the question of  _how._ How the hell was he supposed to get this thing that he wanted? This prince on a pedestal that existed somewhere far away?  _How?_

And, sometimes, answers to these seemingly unanswerable questions present themselves in the most unusual and unlooked for ways, as Gilbert was about to find out.

                “Gil! There’s a call for you on line two!” One of his coworkers called out to him over the noise of the machines, breaking his cycle of thought.

                “’Kay,” he called back, leaving the machine running to quickly cross the floor to where the small coatroom was where the floor’s only company phone sat on a small desk in the corner. Gil picked up the receiver and pressed the flashing red light for line two, secretly hoping it wasn’t Ludwig calling him at work again to chastise him about something or the other. When would that guy learn that sending a private text was better than chewing him out at work?

                “’Ello, Gilbert here,” he said, leaning the back of his legs against the desk, his head tilting back to look up at the low ceiling.

                “Oh, good, Gil…” A sudden, rough cough interrupted the strangled-sounding voice on the other end of the line. Hell, Gilbert couldn’t even tell if it was a girl or a guy talking.

                “You okay…?” More coughing responded to his question before the scratchy voice resumed.

                “Sorry ‘bout that. It’s Elizaveta.” Gilbert’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Why was  _she_ calling  _him_ of all people?

                “You don’t sound to good,” he drily stated, lips quirking up in a slight smirk. “What’s up?”

                “I woke up this morning like this,” the voice on the other end that claimed to be the mightyElizaveta Héderváry croaked. “I called in sick and I’m at home presently. But I’m in a jam right now and…I really need your help.” Even in her weakened state, Gil could tell that Eliza would have liked to choke on her words instead of actually saying them.

                “Oh really…” Gilbert drawled, shifting backwards so that he was now sitting on the desk, his long legs swinging out in front of him freely. “Y’know, my services aren’t so cheap. I’m surprised you would come to me for aid in your time of trouble.” A frustrated sigh sounded from Eliza’s end.

                “Believe me, I’d rather not but…” Another round of coughing interrupted her. “It’s a delicate situation and I need it dealt with today.” Gilbert didn’t answer, waiting for the Hungarian to get on to the important questions. Another sigh. “What do you want?” Gil grinned up at the ceiling. What a girl.

                “Got any beer?”

                “I’ll bring it tomorrow.” Gilbert cackled into the receiver, pleased at this one success.

                “What do you need?”

                “Well, today I was supposed to have Roderich Edelstein’s newest sheet music in for the editors. Actually, he was supposed to bring it in for me but he’s sick as well. I was supposed to stop by today and pick it up for him but now I’m like this so I can’t.” Gilbert wasn’t really sure he was listening anymore. His mind was still caught back in the moment when she spoke his name. He wasn’t entirely convinced that he had heard her correctly. “Gilbert?” Gil jumped a bit, blinking his reddish eyes in confusion.

                “Y-Yeah, I’m here. So, what do you need me to do?” Elizaveta coughed again and when she next spoke, her voice sounded a lot more tired than what was usual for her.

                “Roderich isn’t very good with strangers I’m afraid. He hasn’t met anyone in the company besides you who would be willing to go out and pick up his music for him. And…” Another cough, this one more embarrassed than anything else. “I don’t really want anyone knowing that we left this to last minute. So, I was wondering if you could go over to his place on your lunch and pick it up for me?” Gilbert sat frozen on the edge of the desk, stuck between wanting to laugh hysterically or whoop with elation.  _You have to be kidding me. This is too perfect to be true!_ But he stopped himself before he could get carried away.  _Cool, Gil. Play it cool._

“Well, I  _could_ go get it for you…” he said casually, trying to keep the stupid-ass grin he had on from leaking through into his voice.

                “But…?”

                “What’s the magic word?” He lightly asked, relishing the sound of Eliza’s annoyed sigh.

                “You’re such a child, Gilbert,” she muttered, her voice as croaky as ever. “Fine. Could you  _please_ go get it for me?” Gil snorted in amusement.

                “Why of course, Elizaveta. Just give me the address and I’ll get you out of the hole you dug yourself into.”

                “Tch. Really, you’re unbelievable.”

                “Why thank you.” As Gilbert scribbled down the address on the notepad that sat by the phone on the desk, he vainly tried to quell his excitement. How quickly the tables had turned! He now knew where the pianist that had stolen his heart lived. Not only that, but he was going to see him in less than forty-five minutes.  _I have to be dreaming,_ Gil thought as he walked on air back to his printer. But the pain in his arm from the pinch he gave himself proved that he was very much awake.

~{*}~

                 _Holy shit,_ Gil thought to himself as he turned his little black Golf onto the road that the GPS proclaimed to be the one that the famous Roderich Edelstein lived on.  _I guess I should’ve known that he’d be loaded._ He had somehow ended up in a hoity-toity neighbourhood, tucked away in the outskirts of the city. Huge expansive green lawns led up to widely spread out elaborate stone homes – no, mansions – that put Gilbert’s apartment building to shame. Patterned stone driveways wound through meticulously cared for shrubbery up to columned entrance ways, the huge-looking backyards fenced in by connecting wooden fences; at least one tree in every front yard and backyard.

                 _Who knew areas like this existed fifteen minutes away from me?_ Gilbert slowly made his way down the street, keeping a close eye on the brass house numbers as he drove past, attempting to ignore the multi-zero cars parked in the driveway.  _Sixty-three, sixty-three._

                “You have reached your destination,” the GPS intoned, making Gilbert jump a bit and peer closer out the window.  _Fifty-nine._

“Don’t you lie to me, woman,” he muttered as he drove on another two houses to number sixty-three where he slowly pulled into the driveway, feeling a bit bad about touching the grey stone with his probably dirty tires. Gil parked just a little ways up the driveway, choosing to walk the rest of the way. The high noon sun was being filtered through a thin layer of clouds as he made his way past what would probably become a nice garden in a month or so.  _Don’t wimp out now,_ he told himself sternly as he slowly walked up the broad stone stairs and past the columned archway to the fancy front door.  _Be cool man. Cool._

Due to the apparent lack of a doorbell, Gilbert grasped the heavy brass doorknocker and firmly knocked three times, letting go in order to pass sweaty palms over his work jeans.  _Ah they’re all dirty…_ No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than he found the front door being swung open. To be honest, he was half expecting a maid to answer the door if the shiny Lincoln and Passat in the driveway were anything to go by. But lo and behold the door opened to reveal none other but the pretty little Austrian himself, standing there clad in a light violet dress shirt, khaki pants and  _oh sweet Christ is he wearing a jabot?,_ his thin dark eyebrows raising up questioningly at Gilbert’s shocked and overwhelmed silence at the sudden appearance of the object of his affections.

                “May I help you?” Gilbert blinked at the question, unfreezing his momentarily still body as a grin crossed his face.

                “Actually, it’s  _me_  who’s been sent here to help  _you,”_ Gilbert replied easily, gazing steadily at the pianist as he waited for his entrancing violet eyes to widen in recognition of the man he had met not four days ago. But the man’s eyes instead narrowed in suspicion, a small frown curving his lips.

                “Excuse me?”  _…He doesn’t recognize me. Well then…_

Gilbert extended his hand as if he wanted to shake hands with the pianist. Roderich slowly lifted up his hand to touch Gilbert’s, a puzzled frown on his face. “Gilbert Beilschmidt,” Gil said as their hands touched, a small spark igniting where their skin met. Gilbert quickly lowered his head to place a chaste kiss on the pianist’s white hands, glancing up with a smirk at the shocked Austrian. “Pleased to meet you.” Ah. There was the recognition Gilbert had been waiting for.

                “You!” Roderich said loudly, eyes widening as he quickly withdrew his hand. “You’re that guy from the concert.” His eyes narrowed again, this time warily, as he took a small step back into his house. “Why are you here? I’m waiting for someone important right now. And how do you know where I live?” Gil’s smirk became wider at the composer’s wary tone. He took a bold step forward, making Roderich take one more step back, deeper into his house.

                “All three of those things have to do with Elizaveta,” Gilbert stated as he entered through the doorway into the large home, glancing briefly around the high-ceilinged entranceway.

                “What do you mean?” Roderich asked, standing at a safe distance away, head slightly tilted adorably in confusion. Gilbert reminded himself that he needed to practice thinking before he acted.

                “I got a call from a dead-sounding Eliza this morning, asking me to come pick something up from you as she’s out of commission.” Roderich blinked in surprise at Gilbert’s explanation.

                “Is that so…” He slowly said, frowning a bit at the shiny wood floor. “She didn’t say a word about it to me.” Gil shrugged, going ahead and taking off his shoes on the entrance mat, closing the front door behind him, effectively welcoming himself into the home as Roderich followed his movements closely with his distant violet eyes.

                “She sounded kind of out of it. Maybe she forgot to tell you.” Gil shed his light spring jacket and hung it on an elaborate brass coat/hat stand by the door – noting the other single long black coat hung there – before turning back to the pianist with a grin. “I guess she just trusted me enough to take care of it for her.” Roderich raised one dark eyebrow.

                “Right…” Roderich said, his tone several layers deep in the sarcasm area. “I guess you’d better come in…” The pianist trailed off again as he noticed that the German was quite inside the house already. He gave Gilbert a slightly amused look before turning around and leading him into a wide hallway, Gilbert’s heart pumping a mile a minute.

                A large spiral staircase wound up to his right while the hallway continued on straight ahead, leading, it seemed, to a kitchen and a dining room farther down. Roderich led Gilbert through a set of double doors on his right however, which opened up into a huge room filled with musical instruments, the centrepiece obviously being the gorgeous grand piano in the middle of the room.

                Gil lagged behind Roderich as the composer made his way to a paper-strewn desk in the corner, taking in the amount of instruments that lay about the room. It was pretty crowded actually. Not dirty, like, there was no dust or anything like that. More…disorganized. As if things were placed down and forgotten until they were needed again, only to be moved around to another place when they were called for. Gil resisted the urge start straightening things up.

                It was as he was perusing the composer’s impressive collection of violins, thinking about how it had been a really long time since he’d last played and imagining what Roderich’s expression would be if he suddenly took one in his arms and began playing a Beethoven Sonata on it (not that he could, actually, he wasn’t  _that_ awesome at it…he knew several simple, pretty tunes on both the flute and the violin but nothing requiring a great deal of virtuosity), it was then that he spotted the blue hair bow lying underneath a table. And he remembered the girl. Gilbert bent and lightly touched it thoughtfully, trying to think if he had seen any other traces of a female living in the house. Glancing quickly back at Roderich who was still rifling through the mess of papers on his desk –  _he should really clean that up –_ Gilbert inched towards the door of the room, craning his head back in an effort to peer up and down the hallway, as if thinking he could actually spot the girl in question, Lilli, coming around some corner with an apron tied around her waist.

                “Looking for something?” Gil jumped at Roderich’s question, turning to look back at the man who was standing by his piano now, papers held in his hand, his eyebrows arched questioningly. Gil shrugged, taking a step towards the slender man, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.

                “Just wondering if you live all by yourself in here,” he said casually, looking around the big room. _Oh crap was that creepy?_ But Roderich didn’t seem to notice at all, in fact he was barely looking at him.

                “I don’t,” he responded, looking down at the papers in his hands and shuffling them a bit. “I live here with a friend. You may have seen her at the concert.” Gilbert felt his heart squeeze a little. So he was right.

                “The cute blondie?” He asked, a lopsided smirk crossing his face. Roderich nodded slowly, his violet eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What, you guys together or something?” Roderich’s frown got deeper, if that was possible, and he huffed quietly under his breath, striding towards Gilbert and handing him the papers.

                “I fail to see how that is any of your business,” he haughtily said, nose in the air as Gil glanced down at she sheets in his hand, seeing that they were musical scores, feeling slightly chastised. “But no,” Roderich quietly added, eyes glancing up at Gil indifferently. “It’s not like that. Family friends.” Just those few words were enough make Gil’s spirits soar as he tried to squelch the grin creeping along his face.

                “I see,” he said lightly, feigning disinterest as he flipped through the sheets. “Eliza will be happy to see this when she comes back tomorrow,” he added, trying to think of how he could find some excuse to stay with the man a bit longer. Well, at least long enough to find excuse for him to come back…

                “I hope she’s alright,” Roderich muttered lowly, almost as if he were talking to himself.  _Hey! I’m still here!_ It was then that Gilbert suddenly had another terrible suspicion.

                “You’re not going out with Elizaveta either are you?” He demanded quickly, his tone surprisingly sharp. Roderich’s violet eyes widened behind his glasses as his gaze snapped back up to meet Gilbert’s accusing red eyes, his cheeks flushing.

                “No!” He protested, shaking his head vehemently. “We’ve been friends for years and that’s it.” Gilbert couldn’t hold back the sigh of relief that escaped from his lips. Roderich narrowed his eyes as he looked Gil up and down. “How many women do you need?” He muttered, stepping around Gilbert and heading out of the music room leaving Gilbert to slowly follow him. “Though, I recommend that you stay away from those two. They’ll chew you up and spit you out in an instant.”  _Oh._ Roderich had obviously gotten the very wrong idea.

                He opened his mouth as he followed Roderich out of the music room, about to blurt out  _I’m gay_ but before he could utter a sound, his stomach suddenly growled rather loudly.  _Whoops,_ he thought as Roderich’s head snapped around, an amused look in his violet eyes as Gil’s cheeks flushed red.

                “It’s my lunch break right now,” he explained sheepishly.

                “Oh, that’s right.” Roderich paused in the entranceway, turning a bit to look back down the hallway over Gilbert’s shoulder, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “I had made something for Eliza when she was going to come over. I don’t suppose you would be interested since she won’t be coming anymore apparently…” Gilbert’s heartrate sped up again. Who was this man that he had so much power over him?

                “Sure,” he accepted immediately, his voice surprisingly calm given the state of his mind. “I’ve got time.” Roderich blinked at his easy acceptance but then nodded, heading back down the hallway. Gilbert placed the scores on the first step of the spiral staircase before following close behind the musician, unconsciously memorizing the way he walked; deliberately putting one foot in front of the other as if thinking about each step he took, a sort of slow, floating walk.  _His hips are so slender…is that even normal?_ Gil tugged his gaze back up forcefully.

                “They’re just sandwiches,” Roderich explained as they walked into the huge spotlessly clean kitchen. “I knew Elizaveta wouldn’t have that much time so I just made something simple.” Well, the kitchen may be immaculately clean, but it wasn’t actually really tidy. Piles of clean dishes lay on the counter, neatly rewrapped foods sat in front of forgotten cupboards, used dishtowels sat folded beside the sink. Gil slowly slid onto one of the stools sitting at the granite island in the middle of the kitchen, gently moving aside a white porcelain casserole dish as Roderich took a plate of sandwiches from the counter and placed them in front of Gilbert, removing the plastic wrap.

                Gil’s eyes widened minutely at the sight of the  _just_ sandwiches. These things were freaking works of art.  _Just sandwiches my ass,_ he thought as he glanced at Roderich out of the corner of his eyes, seriously wondering what his reaction would be if Gil proposed to him right then and there.  

~{*}~

                Though Roderich would never admit it, he did sometimes think about how quiet the house was, how still. It often seemed as if it could almost be a museum, or a funeral home. But one thing was for sure: it certainly wasn’t quiet now. This German that had apparently been sent in Elizaveta’s place was loud. And loud in everything he did. His footsteps were loud, his voice was loud, even his stomach was almost unbelievably loud.

                “Wow, these sandwiches are awesome!” The man said enthusiastically, with his mouth full. Roderich raised an eyebrow at his manners but he smiled thinly in acceptance of the praise. Maybe he was quite crude and presumptuous and needlessly loud, but he was…interesting – to say the very least.

                “Thank you,” he replied quietly, sitting primly on the stool across the granite counter from the German, watching as the number of sandwiches on the plate steadily dwindled. He couldn’t help but notice that the man’s cherry red eyes constantly swept slowly around the kitchen, taking in the spotless surfaces as he contemplatively chewed.

                The man pushed back the plate suddenly, only crumbs left behind as he slowly stood from the stool, still looking around. “Don’t you have a maid?” He casually asked. Roderich tilted his head at first in confusion at the question.  _What?_ Then indignation began to course through him at the man’s insinuation.  _Is he saying that my house is_ dirty?  _The nerve! There isn’t a speck of dust to be seen._

“I let her go several years ago,” Roderich coolly replied, rising as well from his stool. “I did not see the need of paying someone to do things that I could just as easily do myself.” Roderich jumped as the man let out a loud, obnoxious laugh, shooting a violet glare at him. The guy held up his hands in a pacifying gesture, a grin covering his face.

                “Now, now, don’t get upset. I was just thinking that you really are a stingy little Master after all.” Roderich’s frowned deepened, taking a step towards the infuriating man.

                “I am not stingy,” he rebuffed, gazing angrily up at the slightly taller man. “There is a difference between being stingy and being economical.” He watched as the man’s curious ruby eyes widened at his words, his annoying grin softening some.

                “Of course, of course.  _Not_ stingy,” he corrected himself. “But I must admit that you are a very eccentric guy, little Master. Just like I thought,” he added, winking suddenly at him. Roderich’s violet eyes widened slightly in surprise before reverting back into a scowl.

                “Please do not call me that,” he muttered, quickly swishing past the annoying man and leading him firmly back through the hallway. He crossed his arms in stony silence as he watched the German slip on his shoes and his jacket before picking up the scores he had left on the stairs.

                “Thank you for helping out myself and Elizaveta,” Roderich stated monotonously, gazing imperiously at the shaggy pale-haired man before him with the ink-stained jeans. “It was much appreciated.”

                “My pleasure, little Master,” the man quipped, putting a hand on the doorknob and pulling the door open, Roderich not bothering to snap a correction at him. “Oh,” he added, one foot through the door, turning his head to look back at Roderich. “I would really enjoy hearing you play again one day.” And then he stepped through the doorway and was gone, the door closing firmly behind him. Roderich slowly walked back through the hallway to the kitchen where he picked up the plate the man had used. What was the name…? _Ah yes. Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt._ The house was quiet again, the funeral home-like atmosphere returning. He would go and play one of Chopin’s Nocturnes, maybe, to fill the silence until Lilli returned home.

~{*}~

                Gilbert peeled out of the little Master’s driveway before stepping on the gas. He would be a bit hard-pressed to get back to work before his break ended, but he didn’t care. He drove the whole way back with a huge, satisfied grin on his face. Gil, in general, was a rather positive and happy person. But he was pretty sure it was safe to say that he had never been so optimistic about the future than he was right at that moment. And as he dropped the new scores on Elizaveta’s desk before heading back down to the printing room, his head was full of violet eyes, small annoyed scowls, slender hips and the number sixty-three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wOW I should really start studying for exams. I'm such a big procrastinator when it comes to school ugh.  
> And yet I somehow always manage to update my fics on time...whoops.  
> Anyways, thanks for reading!


	5. An Innocent Intrusion

                It turned out that Gilbert _was_ a bit late coming back from Roderich’s house and as such, he was kept quite busy for the rest of the week. He spent the week in high spirits though, filled with a new sense of purpose and optimism. He was also strangely restless, feeling the need to keep constantly occupied, throwing himself into work as he tried to squelch his desire to run off and go to Roderich’s house right that minute. No such opportunity arose however, and he found himself wondering if he should have seized the chance he had had to scribble down Roderich’s phone number. But then he realized that the little prince probably wouldn’t have deigned to give it to him right off the bat like that. _I’ll have time enough for that,_ he assured himself as his mind clicked through various plans throughout the course of the week, anticipation building in his chest.

                _“Quelle chance!”_ Francis cried on Friday evening, slapping Gilbert on the back in a congratulatory way after the German told his best friends about Monday’s events.

                “That really is quite lucky _amigo,”_ Antonio said with a happy grin. “So? Did you confess to him?”

                “Or did you just pounce on him to make sure he got the picture?” Francis added with a wicked grin. Gilbert rolled his eyes, laughing as he tried to picture the Austrian’s reaction if he tried to do that.

                “That _totally_ would have worked,” he snorted. He took a slow drink, making sure he had his friends’ attention. “Naw, he just would have hissed at me and that would have brought me back to point A again.”

                “ _Alors,_ what are you going to do?” Francis asked. “How are you going to get to see him again?”

                Gilbert grinned back at them, winking. “Don’t worry ‘bout that. I have a sure-fire plan that I’ll tell you about later if it works.” Toni snickered from beside him

                “Of course. Since when have Gilbert Beilschmidt’s Great Plans ever failed?” Gil punched him.

~{*}~

                One o’clock Saturday afternoon found Gilbert standing on Roderich’s front steps under a clear blue sky as he firmly knocked on the door with one hand, his other hand full with a big cardboard box. His stomach clenched slightly in anticipation as he kept his reddish gaze fixed on the door’s front window.

                The door slowly opened to reveal the musician, whose violet eyes widened in shock behind his glasses as he saw who was standing on his front steps. Gilbert felt a grin spread across his face even as his stomach gave a little flip at the sight of the man dressed in a plain white dress shirt and brown slacks. He swore that that little piece of hair that constantly stuck up in the air became more endearing every time he saw it.

                “I am here to clean,” Gilbert declared even as he took a forceful step into the musician’s large home, forcing the slightly smaller man to take a step back. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the darker interior as the composer made adorable spluttering noises behind him.

                “My home _is_ clean,” Roderich snapped as Gil proceeded to take his shoes off and press deeper into the house, setting the box full of cleaning supplies on the spiral staircase. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?!” Roderich said from behind him, pacing slightly in agitation, obviously trying to reign in the not very dignified desire to grab Gilbert by the collar and forcefully drag him from his home. “You can’t just barge into people’s homes without invitation,” he insisted as Gilbert proceeded to take out a handkerchief from the box and tie it over his pale hair, his fingers deftly knotting the cloth in practiced moves.

                “Roderich?” Gilbert’s head snapped around towards the top of the stairs where the girl he had seen from the concert was slowly coming down, a green dress covering her small figure as she met Gil’s gaze curiously, her shoulder-length blonde hair pinned back with a blue bow. “What’s going on?” She asked, her green eyes darting between Gilbert and Roderich in confusion.

                “I’m Gilbert,” Gil said with a smile as the girl walked down until she was at eye-level with him, holding out his hand. “I’m here to clean.” She shot a quick glance at Roderich before slowly taking Gilbert’s proffered hand.

                “Lilli,” she responded, a small smile ghosting across her face. “I’m glad you finally hired someone, Roderich,” she continued, her voice light and soft. “Things do tend to get a bit cluttered, I’m afraid.”

                “I _didn’t_ hire him,” Roderich insisted angrily as he suspiciously watched the two of them. “He just barged in here on his own.” Lilli frowned slightly.

                “Do you know him?” Before Roderich could say a word, Gil spoke up.

                “I work at his publishing company,” he quickly explained. “We met recently. And,” he added, shooting a slightly mocking glance at the little prince, “I am doing this out of the kindness of my heart.” Roderich failed at stifling his sigh as the smile returned to Lilli’s face.

                “In that case, thank you very much, Gilbert.” Gil returned her smile with a grin of his own and then glanced back at the frowning musician, holding back a snicker at the frustration plain in his violet eyes.

                “I’ll start with the kitchen,” he declared, picking up the box and marching to the back of the house where the kitchen was, Lilli slowly trailing behind though Roderich remained by the stairs. _Just getting to see him is enough for now,_ Gil thought as he once again took in the rather cluttered mess that covered the granite counters. He found that even being in the same house as Roderich was enough to get his heart doing strange things in his chest. He wanted to be a part of Roderich’s life, something permanent, something that the little prince _needed._ And he supposed that this was one way to start.

~{*}~

                Roderich watched Lilli trail along after the invasive German as they headed into the kitchen, silently stewing at his audacity. Who did that guy think he was to just barge into his home under the pretense of _cleaning?_ Roderich turned around and walked into his music room, stopping in front of the large picture window that looked out over his street. He pulled his cellphone from his slacks’ pocket and speed dialed Elizaveta’s number. She answered on the third ring.

                “Roderich? What’s the matter?”

                “Did you put that German up to this?” He immediately asked.

                “… What? What German? What happened?” Rodeirch heaved a sigh at Eliza’ perplexed tone.

                “That guy you sent over on Monday. Gilbert. He showed up just now saying he’s going to clean my house and he just disappeared into the kitchen with Lilli.”

                “He what?!” Elizaveta demanded, her tone sharp.

                “So you didn’t put him up to this?”

                “No… Is he actually cleaning?” Roderich took a few steps back and leaned around the corner to stare down the hallway. He heard the sound of plates moving around in the kitchen. It sounded like Lilli was explaining where they put all of the dishes.

                “It appears so,” Roderich reluctantly admitted, a small frown appearing on his face. “But _why?_ That’s not something people do, is it? Showing up at perfect strangers’ houses and cleaning them?”

                “Well, at least you’ve met each other before,” Eliza pointed out. “Who knows why Gil does the things he does? Maybe he likes you,” she added with a small snicker, her voice teasing. Roderich rolled his violet eyes and returned to stand by the window, looking out at the beautiful day as he quietly sighed.

                “But Eliza…”

                “Look Roddy,” she interrupted briskly. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t be happy with this. That guy annoys me to no end. But, if he actually wants to clean, then I say let him. Your place does tend to get kind of cluttered.”

                “Why is everyone saying that?” Roderich muttered. Elizaveta just laughed.

                “I would come over and kick him out but I’m on my way to a lunch thing for work. Let him do his thing and he’ll probably leave without causing too much trouble. I’ll come to the rescue if he does something really out there, but it should be alright. Okay?” Roderich sighed.

                “Fine,” he relented as he hung up. He could still hear the sounds of pots and pans coming from the kitchen, along with the German’s excessively loud voice and Lilli’s much quieter one. Ordinarily, Roderich would be worried about Lilli being in the same room alone with that guy, but considering the fact that Gilbert seemed to be eagerly discussing different ways to organize cupboards, he figured that it would be alright to leave them for a little while. So he instead reluctantly moved to his desk and sat down, beginning to attack the mound of paperwork that had accumulated during the week. He really needed to start keeping up with it. He would finish this up before he allowed himself to touch an instrument. It was a wonder what added incentive could do for your motivation.

~{*}~

                It took a lot longer than Gilbert had originally planned to reorganize Roderich’s kitchen. Lilli had disappeared upstairs after a little while, saying something about laundry that needed folding, leaving Gilbert surrounded by pans and porcelain. She was very sweet, Gil had to admit, with a quiet voice and a pleasant, friendly smile. Perfect little sister material.

                By the time he had more systematically ordered the cupboards and drawn out a mini map for Lilli and Roderich that told them where everything was, it was nearing three-thirty in the afternoon. He would need to leave soon as he had made plans to meet Franny and Toni that evening to tell them about his amazing plan. He personally considered it a success, seeing as he had efficiently infiltrated Roderich’s home and pretty much played housewife for him, which, under these circumstances, he didn’t really mind. _Soon he’ll just get so used to me being around that I’ll be able to come and go as I please,_ Gil thought as he began to pack up his polish and dishcloths back into the box. _A few dates after that and I shall seduce him with my awesomeness and he won’t be able to deny his feelings any longer._ With a smirk of satisfaction playing across his face, he began to walk back out into the hallway. He was pretty sure the little prince was in his music room…

                Just as he thought that, the sound of a grand piano suddenly filled the home, making Gilbert’s breath catch in his throat and his steps falter at the sound. It was the Adagio from Beethoven’s _Moonlight Sonata,_ a very familiar piece but now sounding almost entirely different and more beautiful than ever now that he knew who was playing it.

                Setting the box down on the steps, he slowly went to stand in the music room doorway. Roderich was sitting on the piano bench with his back facing him, his body ever-so-slightly moving as he played the slow, melodic piece, the broken chords taking on a different emotion every time they were played.

                Unbeknownst to Gil, Lilli quietly came halfway down the stairs to listen as well, and watched Gilbert watch Roderich, a small, knowing smile flitting over her face as she quietly retreated back up to her room. She could listen just as well from there.

                Gilbert remained enraptured right until the final chord drifted away into perfect silence, relishing the second time he’d ever heard the musician play.

                He pulled himself out of his pleasant reverie as Roderich dropped his hands onto his lap and slowly clapped his hands, a smile crossing his face as Roderich jumped and turned around on the bench.            

                “Very impressive, Little Master,” Gilbert said with a smirk, ignoring Roderich’s indignant look as he slowly approached Roderich and placed a gentle hand on the shiny black surface of the piano. “How long have you been playing for?”

                “Since I was four,” Roderich hesitantly answered, sitting rather stiffly on the bench, gazing at Gil out of the corner of his eyes. Gilbert hummed noncommittally as he pretended to peruse the sheet music on the stand. It was another Chopin Nocturne. Roderich shifted slightly. “… Do you play any instruments?” Gilbert brought his gaze back to the pretty musician and he smirked slightly.

                “The flute and the violin. And, I’m pretty awesome at them even if I do say so myself.” He felt a surge of satisfaction at the obvious surprise on the musician’s face before he raised an eyebrow in apparent disbelief.

                “You will have to play for me sometime,” Roderich said, the words making Gil’s heart soar. He stepped away from the piano towards the doorway.

                “Only if you promise to play for me someday,” he returned, his gaze trained on Roderich. The composer’s dark eyebrows drew together adorably in confusion.

                “Did you not just hear me play for the second time?”

                “Yeah, but I want you to play for _me.”_ Gilbert snickered at the increased confusion in Roderich’s eyes as he slowly stepped back into the hallway. “Well, I’m done for today. I’ll see you next week, little prince.”

                “Hey, wait-!” But Gilbert had already grabbed his box from the stairs and quickly let himself out of the house into the mild spring air, the sky blue and the sunshine bright, his spirits soaring as high as the few wispy white clouds that scudded lazily across the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so much for me being always able to update on time haha.  
> Sorry for this being so incredibly late, but life suddenly got a bit too much with exams and then getting my wisdom teeth removed (which was a horrible experience) and also me just kind of losing the desire to do anything but sit at home and binge watch Markiplier horror vids.  
> I'm back now though, but updates may become kind of sporadic so sorry in advance for that.  
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Translation:  
> Quelle chance - What luck


	6. A New Opportunity

“ _Alors_ …you cleaned his house?” That night, which was a Saturday, found the three best friends gathered in Francis’ small but well-kept flat, lounging on dark blue sofas around his coffee table. Gilbert shrugged slightly at Francis’ question, toying with the beer can in his hand, finding himself unable to keep still.

                “I only had time to do the kitchen for now,” Gil admitted, having filled his friends in on the events of that afternoon as soon as they had gotten together. “The rest of the house will come later on.” Antonio chuckled from across the coffee table, one dark eyebrow raised in amusement.

                “So you’re just going to keep showing up at his house under the pretence of cleaning?” Toni wasn’t very good at masking the laughter in his voice as Gilbert kicked his friend’s foot under the table.

                “I really _will_ clean,” Gil insisted, putting his hands up defensively, beer can still gripped in one hand. “My intentions are strictly honourable.” It was Francis’ turn to chuckle from the armchair to his right, causing Gilbert to roll his crimson eyes. “Things will progress from there!” He insisted stubbornly.

                “You should just ask him out again _amigo,”_ Antonio stated, leaning his head against the back of the sofa, green eyes looking up at the ceiling. “Much simpler.”

                “ _Oui mon ch_ _ère,”_ Francis agreed excitedly, tapping a finger against his chin. “You must take him somewhere exciting. These artist types have very exotic tastes I’ve found. Perhaps a strip club…?” Gilbert snorted in the middle of a drink, his mind pushing away the hilariously disturbing image of Roderich in a strip club of all places. He could see it now: sitting stiff as a board, his violet eyes glancing around wildly at anywhere but the stage like some caged animal desperately trying to find a way of escape as his long slender fingers clenched and unclenched in his lap…

                “That would work out _so_ well,” he snickered, shaking his head in dismissal as Antonio laughed. Toni suddenly stopped laughing after a moment, sitting up straight and staring at Gil with curious green eyes.

                “What about that girl that was at the concert?” He asked eagerly. “Did you see her? Was she there?” Gilbert blinked at the sudden question before slowly nodding, a small frown crossing his face. He quirked a small smile though at the dismayed looks on his friends’ faces.

                “Yeah, she was there,” he admitted. “I talked to her quite a bit though and to be honest, Lilli seems more like the little sister type than his girlfriend.” He glanced down as he idly played with the half-empty beer can in his hands. “I still don’t know why she is living with him and I don’t really know their relationship but I don’t think there’s anything going on there. She was sweet though so I’m not going to hate on her if I don’t need to.” Antonio and Francis exchanged sympathetic glances as they nodded.

                “That is the gentlemanly thing to do, Gil,” Francis said approvingly, standing and patting Gil comfortingly on the shoulder. Antonio nodded from his seat.

                “I am impressed.” Gilbert smirked up at them.

                “Hey, I can be a gentleman if I feel like it,” he declared, puffing his chest out and setting the beer can on the table. “In fact, I – “

                Gil was cut off by the ringing of Francis’ doorbell. The Frenchman’s hand stiffened on Gilbert’s shoulder for a split moment before Francis retreated quickly to the front hallway. Antonio and Gil exchanged a glance as the sound of another voice filled the home, a distinct British accent joining the fray. The next moment found Francis quickly returning to the living room, his face slightly flushed, closely followed by a shorter blond man with the most impressive eyebrows Gilbert had ever seen, pulling together slightly over striking emerald eyes as they glanced between Antonio and Gilbert.

                “I’m going to have to ask you guys to leave,” Francis hurriedly said, taking Gil’s upper arm and forcefully pulling him to his feet as Antonio slowly followed suit.

                “Eh? But we just got here…”

                “You really don’t need to do that, Francis…”

                “ _Non,_ I insist,” Francis said, his normally warm and velvety voice suddenly sounding quite agitated and nervous as he pushed Gil and Antonio back down the hallway, grabbed their coats from the hooks and dumped them into their arms.

                “Is that, by any chance, the mysterious Arthur we’ve been hearing about?” Antonio asked in a low voice, a grin sneaking across his face. Francis blinked quickly, his face flushing even more.

                “ _Désolé,”_ he quickly apologized, opening the door for the two of them. “I’ll talk to you guys later.” The next thing they knew, Gil and Toni were standing out in the cool April night air, staring at the closed door. They exchanged a single glance before bursting into suppressed snickers, quickly throwing on their coats as they retreated to a bar for a little while, leaving their friend to it even as Gilbert squished his own tiny sprig of envy.

~{*}~

                Thanks to Francis’ unexpected visitor, Gilbert got home at reasonable time early that morning which meant that he was alive enough to be dragged to Sunday morning mass with Feli and Ludwig a few hours later.

                Gilbert wasn’t a religious person but Feliciano was a deeply rooted Catholic. Well, he really wasn’t sure how much of Feli’s devoutness was due to his beliefs or if it was more of a traditional thing that stemmed from way back in his Italian ancestry. Either way, Feli was able to drag Ludwig to mass with him every single Sunday without fail. He would take Gilbert along as well if he was around and at least semi coherent.

                This Sunday Gil didn’t really mind coming to the huge, ornate church. He sat on the wooden pew, watching the sun stream in through the stained-glass windows, igniting little motes of dust in the air as he let the foreign Latin words wash over him. He began to send a mental sort of prayer, or even a wish if you will, up to a god he wasn’t really sure existed. It wasn’t so much a prayer as it was a confession of sorts; the confession of one of the deep desires of his heart as a beautiful but melancholy face flashed through his thoughts, making the hardness of the bench that much more bearable.

                Later that day, during the early evening hours, Gil picked up his ringing cellphone to find Elizaveta on the other end.

                “I hear you showed up at Roderich’s house yesterday to _clean,”_ she said, her voice laced with doubt and suspicion. Gil rolled his eyes as he smirked, watching from the doorway of the kitchen as Feliciano enthusiastically tied a pink apron around Ludwig’s waist as he urged the German to help him make pasta.

                “Don’t you think his house needs it?” Gil responded lightly, leaning against the doorway as he watched the domestic scene before him. Those two were so sweet it kind of got just a bit sickening at times.

                “That’s beside the point,” Eliza insisted. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

                “So suspicious, Elizaveta,” Gil said, his tone wounded. “Your lack of faith in me is disturbing.” A long sigh sounded from the other end of the line.

                “I swear, if one word of anything fishy reaches my ears, I will personally come over there and smack you with one of Roddy’s frying pans.” Gilbert snickered.

                “Kesesese, I’ll hold you to that.” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other as he watched Ludwig frantically try and keep Feliciano from slicing off his fingers while chopping onions, the latter weeping as he kept valiantly chopping. “Was this all you wanted?”

                “No, actually,” Elizaveta admitted, her tone becoming more business-like. “I just wanted to give you a heads up about a large project we will be starting to plan tomorrow that I am going to need your cooperation with.”

                “And what is this ‘large project’?” He asked, only half paying attention as Ludwig finally took the knife from Feli, wiped his tears and told him to begin boiling the pasta instead.

                “We are planning to begin compiling an anthology of Roderich’s numerous solo violin and piano pieces that have been garnered throughout his five active years as a composer…” Gilbert snapped to attention, red eyes growing large as he straightened in the doorway.

                “What?!”

~{*}~

                Roderich had been sitting motionless at the piano for close to twenty minutes, the sheet music in front of him almost frighteningly blank. His whole mind was a blank, if he were to be perfectly honest with himself. Nothing. Just a big expanse of emptiness. No inspiration, no music. Even the desire to compose, to play, had disappeared somewhere. He sat there, staring down at his hands in his lap, not really seeing anything as he tried to look for the well of inspiration he seemed to have lost somewhere.

                These instances were becoming more and more frequent these days. He would have moments where he would lose all ideas, all motivation. It wouldn’t last for too long, the longest having been only maybe an hour or two. But it happened often enough to frighten him, leaving him open and vulnerable during these periods of time where he stared down at the black and white ivory, seeing and yet not.

                He suddenly heard Lilli’s soft footsteps slowly enter the music room, having been drawn downstairs by the silence. Roderich felt her small hand on his shoulder as she silently slid onto the piano bench, pressing comfortingly against his side. They sat like that for a little while, neither of them feeling inclined to move or speak. The light from the setting sun snuck in through the half-drawn curtains of the front facing music room windows, halfway landing on the back of the shiny black grand piano.

                After what seemed like a very long time but what must have only been maybe five minutes, Roderich watched as Lilli slowly lifted her small hand and gently pressed a white piano key. Gently and carefully, she began to pick out a melody with her one hand, the notes breaking the oppressive silence.

                Roderich recognized the melody after the third note, a wave of nostalgia and longing sweeping over him as he let his eyes close, suddenly rather tired. It was Edelweiss; the song about the flower of his country, the tune that never failed to make him _feel_ again. _Every morning you greet me…_

As Lilli unfailingly played the pretty tune, gently drawing Roderich back to where he belonged, his mind somehow inexplicably flew to the events of the previous day for the briefest of moments. The strange German’s words began to come back to him as Lilli began to repeat the tune as Roderich’s left hand slowly lifted to accompany her.

                _‘…I want you to play for_ me…” It still didn’t make any sense whatsoever and Roderich’s thoughts soon moved on to other things as the two of them filled the home with the bitter sweetness of the song, the music managing to return to both the house and to Roderich.

~{*}~

                Gilbert spent the following five days of the week constantly being called up to the second floor by Elizaveta in order to go through dozens of preliminary plans for the upcoming collection of Roderich Edelstein’s work. The company expected Roderich’s fame and talent to soar to even greater heights in the near future so they of course deduced that creating a collection of his early works would prove to be valuable in several years for like posterity or something along those lines. Gilbert divided his time between Eliza’s office and the printing rooms, going through reams of different sheet music and picking likely candidates from his numerous pieces. _It’s pretty awesome,_ Gil admitted to himself as he held the pretty Austrian’s work in his hands. _To have your life’s work be put together into something like this. It’s kind of like it’s a milestone or something to look back on and see how far you’ve come._

Gilbert himself was of course stoked for Roderich, a maybe presumptuous feeling of pride washing over him whenever he heard mention of Roderich’s name or the planned collection. It turned out it was rather impossible for him to separate his life at work from his personal feelings and he would often catch himself with a rather dorky small smile on his face in the middle of editing a piece or while in the midst of a planning meeting with Elizaveta. _Be cool man, be cool._

                Gil filled in his friends on the new info concerning the planned collection the following Friday night, once again seated at a bar.

                “That’s amazing!” Antonio said excitedly with a happy grin.

                “ _Oui,”_ Francis agreed. “To be so accomplished that you would have a collection of your works put together at only the age of twenty-nine is quite a feat.” He winked at Gilbert. “You picked a good one.” Gil smugly downed a beer.

                “The best,” he affirmed.

                “So…you’re going to see him tomorrow?” Toni asked. Gilbert nodded, excitement twisting his stomach at the thought.

                “Yep. It’s been a week.”

                “You should try to ask him out again,” Francis suggested, nudging Gil with a shoulder. He smirked at Gil’s sudden slightly doubtful frown. “ _As-tu peur?”_ Gilbert frowned, drawing himself up straighter on the stool.

                “Of course not!” He protested.

                “Then you should definitely try,” Antonio encouraged, patting the German on the arm. “Ask him to like a bar or something. It can’t hurt and if he says yes, then so much the better.” Gil hummed thoughtfully as he gazed down at his half-empty mug.

                “…Maybe you’re right.”

~{*}~

                Roderich first heard about the planned collection of his works late Friday afternoon when Elizaveta finally gave him a call.

                “I didn’t want to mention anything to you until we knew for sure that it was a financially sound project business-wise,” she explained over the phone. “But we really believe that it will be a fantastic opportunity for both you and the company Roddy. We all know that you will continue to create fantastic pieces, even better ones than you’ve already made as your talent continues to mature. To have these early examples of your work in one place would be an amazing thing to have and an honour for us to create.” Roderich stood still in the middle of his kitchen, gazing down at the still-clean granite countertops, numerous emotions running through him.

                “I’m not so sure about this,” he slowly said, doubt lacing his voice. “How do you know people would even want this? It may all come to nothing in five years, you never know.” Elizaveta made a dissatisfied sound from the other end of the line.

                “Geez Roddy, what’s with all of the pessimism? I thought you would be excited to get this opportunity!” Roderich sighed, pushing a heavy hand through his thick, wavy dark brown hair.

                “I am, really. I know you have a lot to do with this Eliza so, thank you.” He turned his back to the counter and leaned back against it, allowing his shoulders to drop slightly. “I just…guess I’m doubting my abilities or something.” He heard Eliza sigh in disbelief.

                “You artist types,” she muttered under her breath, causing Roderich to crack a small smile. “You have a _gift_ Roddy. Something real that could never be replaced or copied. You have to trust in yourself more.” At Roderich’s silence she sighed again. “Okay, how ‘bout this. Come by the offices on Monday, just in order to see what exactly it is we’re proposing here. I know you don’t really like coming in to the publishing house but I think it will help you warm up to the idea if you see what we’re planning for yourself. Well? What do you think?” Roderich smiled slightly, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead so he could rub his eyes tiredly.

                “Why can’t I ever seem to win against you?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> Désolé - Sorry
> 
> Haha slight FrUK there whoops XP  
> Thank you to those who left comments on this story, it really means a lot!  
> Thank you, as always, for reading.


	7. A (Tiny) Step Forward

                Early Saturday morning found Gilbert at the airport, dropping off Ludwig and Feliciano. Feli had a fashion show going on in Milan and they would be taking advantage of this in order to visit Feli’s older brother, Lovino, Antonio’s boyfriend. They would be gone until next Sunday, leaving Gilbert alone in Vienna for a little over a week. He didn’t really _mind_ being alone. It was nice sometimes to just be by yourself. But Gil liked to talk so he had a feeling that by the end of the week he would probably be muttering things to himself in order to fill the silence of the apartment. Either that or blasting his diverse musical collection.

                The morning also saw him having an inner argument with himself over what Franny and Toni had said the night before. Try and ask the Little Master out again? What if he said no… Then again, what if he said yes? Gilbert had as much self-confidence as the next person but most of the time it was his mannerisms that made him see more confident than he actually was. Rejection was a real possibility in this case, especially considering how most of the time, Gil couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on in the composer’s head.

                Promptly at one in the afternoon, Gilbert knocked on Roderich’s front door, cleaning supplies once again in hand, eagerly waiting to see Roderich after a whole week. However, it was Lilli who instead answered the door, the small woman blinking in surprise before giving Gil a small smile.

                “Here to clean?” She softly asked. Gil held up the box of cleaning supplies with a grin of his own.

                “Yep!” He eagerly stepped into the front foyer at Lilli’s invitation and shucked off his shoes, crimson eyes immediately darting around the entranceway and hallway, trying to spot a certain composer. Lilli obviously noticed his rather frantic search as she led him deeper into the house.

                “Roderich went off to the library a little while ago,” she explained as they paused in front of the spiral staircase, Gilbert’s gaze darting back to the girl. “He was saying something about finding a technique and mode book he had read in university explaining the differences between…well, something or the other. He should be back soon though.” Gilbert nodded in acceptance, trying to stamp out the small feeling of disappointment that tried to take root. Honestly, the power this guy had over Gilbert’s emotions was kind of crazy. Maybe even more so seeing as how the musician probably wasn’t even aware of how volatile Gil’s feelings became in his presence.

                “So where did you want to clean today?” Lilli asked. Gilbert shook himself from his thoughts, tilting his head thoughtfully.

                “The living room, I suppose.” Lilli nodded and led the German past the closed music room doors and a little farther down the hallway to where a set of double doors led into the large and spacious living room. A small but tasteful coffee table sat in the middle of the room surrounded by comfortable looking leather couches on fluffy Persian carpeting. A cozy fireplace had been placed inside the far wall where yet more cushy armchairs resided. Large windows with red brocade curtains looked out over the large backyard with its stone patio, small fish pond and willow tree. This room also had another piano in it, this one a small upright that sat in a corner. A huge bookshelf took up half of one wall with numerous other shelves lining the walls, seemingly devoted to picture frames and trinkets and statuettes. Like the kitchen had been, this room was clean but not tidy. Cushions were mismatched on the couches, sheet music lay sprawled out over the upright and around it, books lay where they had been discarded, the picture frames were all crooked and haphazardly placed and a few of the odds and ends had somehow ended up on the floor near the windows. Gil set his box down on the cluttered coffee table determinedly. A good dusting and then a strict rearranging and this room could appear on the cover of one of those home renovation magazines that Feli sometimes liked to look at.

                Lilli watched Gilbert tie a handkerchief over his pale blond hair with a small smile on his face as he then stood with hands on his hips, surveying the room speculatively. “Well?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder at the girl who was today dressed in an old green flannel and faded jeans. “Will you be helping me today?” Lilli smiled and rolled up her sleeves.

                “Just tell me where to start.” So the two of them began digging through the mess; Lilli going around and collecting all of the books, Gilbert trying to organize the disastrous piles of sheet music.

                Almost as soon as they began, Lilli began asking Gilbert all about the upcoming compilation of Roderich’s works. It was pretty obvious from the eagerness in her voice that she was super excited for him as she peppered Gil with questions about his work and how they would go about making the collection.

                Somewhere along the way, the conversation shifted from discussing bindings and editing over to Lilli herself.

                “I finished my nursing studies just over six months ago,” she explained as she straightened the books on the shelves, making sure all their spines were facing the same direction. “I’m working at Vienna General in emergency.” Gil glanced at her as he stepped away from the straightened piano, noting, not for the first time, her small frame and quiet demeanour.

                “Must be hard work,” he said as he moved over to one of the shelves on the wall and began straightening the various statuettes and righting knocked over picture frames. “Long hours?”

                “Yes,” Lilli admitted, coming up to stand behind him after having finished with the bookshelves. “It is hard work. But I enjoy it.” Even with his back turned to her, Gilbert could hear the contentedness in her voice. “It’s rewarding work to be able to help people. And keeping busy is always a good thing.” Gil couldn’t argue there but he didn’t think he could ever do shift work like she must have to do. He valued his free weekends too much.

                As Gil turned up a picture frame that had been previously lying face down, he paused with it in his hands midair, pale eyebrows rising in surprise. In the picture sat two grownups, a man and a woman, seated on a sofa with a small boy in between them. All three had dark brown hair though the woman had warm brown eyes and the man had blue eyes while the boy had pretty violet eyes with a small mole just visible under the left side of his lips. The glasses were missing but Gil would know those eyes anywhere.

                “Is that Roderich?” He asked Lilli behind him, though he of course already knew the answer.

                “Yes,” she replied, the smile evident in her tone. “That is him and his mother, Katherine, and his father, Thomas. I think he’s about six in that picture.” _His parents…_ They looked like kind people from here; refined but reasonable as well. In fact, if Gil were to comment on anything, he would say that the parents looked more relaxed and natural than the child. Roderich was sitting stiff-shouldered, his expression almost impressively neutral. _An adorable little prince even back then,_ Gil thought wryly as he carefully set the picture down. _Almost seems as if he was even worse when he was a kid._

“Where are his parents now?” He asked Lilli, finishing righting the shelf and turning to face her, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as he took a little break.

                “They’re off traveling and enjoying their retirement,” Lilli said with a small smile as she carefully rolled the sleeves of her flannel back down. “They hardly ever come home, which is largely why I’m here. Basically a freeloader,” she added with a small laugh though Gil couldn’t help but notice that the laugh didn’t quite reach her deep green eyes. He was about to pry her for more information when he was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

                “Roderich?” Lilli called, retreating back into the hallway, Gil following after her a bit more slowly, his heart suddenly beating a bit strangely in his chest.

                “Yes,” the musician answered as he walked down the hall carrying a pile of precariously stacked books that almost entirely blocked his line of sight. “It took me a bit longer to find what I needed than I originally thought…” The stack suddenly, and predictably, started to wobble causing Roderich’s steps to falter. But even before Lilli could call out a warning or Roderich could try to right himself, Gil was there, taking the top half of the pile of books from Roderich’s grasp. Surprised violet eyes stared at him over the books behind glasses before Roderich’s lips quirked up in a small, crooked smile.

                “So that was your vehicle in the driveway. I wondered if I would come home to find you here.” Gil shrugged, his usual cocky grin crossing his face.

                “I told you I’d come and I usually make it a point to keep my engagements.” Gill tried to squelch his grin as Roderich softly snorted in amusement his violet eyes not bothering to conceal their skepticism. “Where do you want these?” He asked, holding up the pile of books.

                “Ah, yes. In the music room, please.” As Gil followed the composer into the room in question, Lilli called out from behind them.

                “I’m going to go and get ready for my shift, Roderich,” she said as she quickly retreated up the stairs, realizing that she’d done enough to help for the day.

                With a small sigh of relief, Roderich dropped his books down on the desk on the other side of the room, Gil dropping his own pile down beside it. It definitely served to make the already crowded desk even messier, not to mention the other large bookshelf beside the desk against the wall that was already overflowing with books.

                “So many books,” Gil mumbled to himself, absentmindedly scanning through the dozen or so that Roderich had brought from the library. “Ludwig would have a field day in here.”

                “Ludwig?” Gil blinked at Roderich’s question, unaware that he had spoken out loud.

                “My younger brother,” he explained, a genuinely soft smile smoothing his usual smirk whenever he talked about his little brother, wily red eyes becoming a bit more gentle; all of these reactions, of course, unbeknownst to him. “He’s a real bookworm, though you probably wouldn’t think it if you were to just look at him. He works as a personal bodyguard and most people would probably hand him a metal bat over a book any day.” That only served to remind him that this week in the empty house would probably seem very long. Picking up two of the library books, he curiously perused the covers. “Mountain Folk Songs and…The History of Plainchant…?” He shot a questioning look at Roderich, the smirk suddenly and naturally returning to his face. “You writing essays, Little Master?”

                Roderich frowned at him and quickly snatched the books out of his hands. “It is research,” he shortly said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. When Gilbert started to chuckle, Roderich huffed crossly. “If you are here to clean, as you say you are, then I suggest you get to it, Mr. Beilschmidt.” Gil bit back his laughter as he gave a little bow.

                “Right away, sir,” he said in mock seriousness, turning to the music room bookshelf that seemed to contain just as much sheet music as it did regular books. How did Roderich manage to turn the most infuriating of personalities into something so adorable and fun to tease? He snuck a glance at Roderich who proceeded to take a seat at his desk and begin to sort through the pile of library books. _I wonder if I should do what Francis and Antonio suggested…_

~{*}~

                Roderich pushed all of his sheet music to the back of his desk as he spread the books he had borrowed out in front of him. But even as he did so, he heard Gilbert rummaging around the room behind him, picking up stray pieces of sheet music from the sounds of it, having made quick work of the bookshelf. Roderich couldn’t help the little sprig of curiosity that had bloomed when the German had mentioned his younger brother, nor could he ignore how affectionately he had spoken towards him. It didn’t seem like this Ludwig was anything like Gilbert which was, naturally, a good thing. Probably an easy person to converse with. _Maybe I’ll get to meet him one day,_ he idly thought as he arranged the books he had borrowed by time period. A small frown crossed his face as he picked up a book on Bohemian Folk Tunes. _This is getting out of hand…_

“You were quite the little prince as a kid too, weren’t you?” Roderich jumped slightly at the sound of Gil’s voice, turning his head to where Gilbert was standing at a small table in the corner, looking down at a picture of himself and his parents. There were many more like that one down on this floor; little pieces of memory that didn’t really mean all that much to him. Decoration more than anything else.

                The way the German had said this, however, was quite evidently meant to get a rise out of him. So Roderich shoved down his annoyance, something he found himself doing quite frequently with this pushy guy, and tried to speak civilly. “It all depends on what your definition of a ‘little prince’ is.”

                “Put it this way,” Gilbert said easily, turning around to slowly make his way back to Roderich’s desk. “It doesn’t really seem like you’ve changed that much since you were a kid.” Roderich leaned back in his chair and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

                “And you’re able to tell all that from looking at pictures taken over twenty years ago?” Gilbert shot him another self-satisfied smirk.

                “What can I say? I’m a very good judge of character.” Roderich laughed incredulously under his breath, redirecting his gaze to his books.

                “Right. Well, if you’re quite finished, you can let yourself out whenever.” However, the jean-cladded legs didn’t move from his line of vision beside his desk. Roderich glanced up in annoyance at his unwanted house guest, blinking in surprise at the surprisingly pensive look on Gilbert’s face as he stared down at the books on the desk. “Can I help you?” The reddish eyes blinked once before instantly refocusing back on Roderich’s eyes as if they hadn’t just been lost in thought a moment before.

                “Actually…” Gilbert drew out, leaning against the desk with one hand. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out and get a couple of drinks with me this evening.” Roderich’s hands froze for a split second over the books in shock before he opened his mouth, his response coming automatically and without any real thought put into it.

                “I’m afraid I’m not much of a drinker,” he said in a steady voice, reverting his gaze back down to the pile of books. He saw Gilbert push himself from the side of the desk out of the corner of his eye, though he himself refused to meet his gaze.

                “Thought as much,” Gilbert said with a light, slightly rueful laugh, his voice slowly retreating out of the room. “Maybe next time then, Little Master. Later.” Not a minute had passed before Roderich heard his front door open and close before silence took over once again. He allowed his long-fingered hands to still over the yet-unopened books, a small frown crossing his face. Really, he hadn’t gone out drinking in…how many years? Almost seven now, maybe more. What a strange question for the guy to ask. Honestly, the way their personalities clashed, it was unfathomable why Gilbert still wanted to clean his home (for free), let alone go out drinking with him. _I honestly cannot tell what on earth is going on in that head of his half of the time…if anything at all._

                It wasn’t until a bit later, in the middle of the book on Spanish serenades that he had grabbed out of desperation, that he realized that he probably could have told Gilbert that he would be at the publishing house on Monday when he went to meet Eliza and see it for the first time.

                _Oh well,_ he thought dismissively, trying to refocus all of his concentration back on the lilting melodies covering the pages. _It’s not like I will actually see him anyways._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol idk what to say about this one...  
> Poor Gil...?
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading!
> 
> PS. The next few chapters shall introduce the beginnings of the 'actual' 'plot' (note the use of quotation marks) which shall fill a few holes in our present knowledge but will also begin to shed some light on the past. So....yeeah. Thanks again!


	8. A Surprise Encounter

Gilbert spent the rest of the weekend quietly at home, filling the silence of the empty apartment with reruns of  _Star Trek_ and  _Planet of the Apes._ He also texted Francis and Antonio back and forth, his friends supportive and encouraging after he filled them in on his declined offer on Saturday.

He headed into work Monday morning feeling tired but eager to keep his hands busy. Though he was still kind of smarting after Roderich's rejection, he told himself to try and not to let it get to him. It got a bit harder to do that, however, when he remembered that they were supposed to be continuing work on Roderich's anthology that day. 

_You got this man,_ Gil thought to himself as he started up the printers.  _Quitting is never an option for you. There'll be other opportunities. This guy's just gonna take time and you knew that from the start. Be cool._

In that way he was able to successfully make it through the morning, spending half of it upstairs discussing formatting with the editors and the other half back down with the printers, filling an order of violin textbooks. So occupied was he that he almost didn't notice Elizaveta's presence down in the printing rooms fifteen minutes before his lunch was scheduled to start until she came right on up to him. He jumped a bit at the poke at his shoulder and he whipped his head around, letting the pages he was holding fall to his work table.

"Eliza, what the h--" Gil's annoyed exclamation trailed off as he looked past the brunette, realizing that his boss wasn't alone. Ruby eyes widened in shock as he took in the figure of someone he never expected to see down there in the dirty printing room. "Roderich?!" He said in surprise, shock slowly morphing into excitement as he examined the composer's wary expression, violet eyes obviously hesitant to meet his own. "What are you doing here?"

"He's here to finally see the place where the magic happens," Elizaveta explained with a smirk directed back at her composer who shifted uncomfortably, dressed in a dress shirt and slacks, a long dark coat held in his arms and a grey scarf loosely hanging around his neck. "It was high time you finally got to see what goes into publishing the pieces that you make." Gilbert crossed his arms across his chest and grinned, gazing steadily at the musician.

"I see," he slowly said, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Well?" He asked, gesturing around him with one arm. "What do you think?"

Roderich cleared his throat as his eyes darted around the huge space once more. "It's busy," he shortly said, voice raised a bit more than usual to compensate for the ongoing din in the background. "And...loud." Gilbert laughed at Roderich's discomfort.

"Stick around long enough and you'll get used to it." He glanced back at Eliza. "This is the last stop on the grand tour?" She nodded.

"Yep. I've already shown him the top floors so I figured I would give you the opportunity to be the grand finale." 

"I'm honoured," he said, smirking. Eliza pulled her phone out of her pocket and glanced at the screen.

"I've gotta get back upstairs," she said apologetically to Roderich before turning back to Gilbert. "You can have extra time for lunch if you'll show Roddy around." Gilbert tried to squelch down the feeling of excitement bubbling up inside of him.

"I will do my best to make it as awesome as possible," he said with a serious tone. Elizaveta narrowed her eyes at him.

"Take care of him, Gilbert. Or so help me..." With that she was off, weaving between the machines as she headed back upstairs.

Gil glanced at Roderich as the composer sighed. "Always going off at her own pace," Roderich muttered.

"That's the truth," he agreed with a twist of his lips. "So. Shall I give you the grand tour of my awesome kingdom, Little Master?" Roderich straightened his shoulders and waved at Gil to go ahead.

"Lead the way." So Gilbert spent the last fifteen minutes before lunch showing Roderich every nook and cranny of the printing rooms, from the office in the corner to the employee's locker area to the actual printers themselves, all the while marveling at the stroke of luck that pushed him into this situation. The little prince was surprisingly attentive, violet eyes always paying attention behind their glasses, a question emerging from the composer's lips every now and then. Gilbert had always been proud of his work and being able to show the things that gave him so much fulfillment to Roderich was actually very special to him, though he would never say it out loud. It only served to create more bonds between them in Gil's eyes, forming something he would be able to fall back onto in the weeks to come. 

"And that's about it," Gilbert said after he had shown Roderich the distribution area, the two of them watching as one of their trucks pulled out, carrying its load to various music stores. "What did you think?"

"A lot more work goes into all of this than I had previously imagined," Roderich said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "So many things need to happen before one of my pieces gets printed and even that in itself is a journey." He glanced over at Gilbert, meeting his gaze straight on. "I'm impressed." Gil suppressed the bubble of happiness that filled him, caught a bit off-guard himself at how much Roderich's praise meant to him.

"Of course you are," Gilbert stated, trying to disguise his happiness. "You'd have to be blind not to be." Roderich's lips twitched into an almost-smile as he looked away.

"Don't push it." Gil smiled as he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. 

"Well, it's my lunch break now," he slowly said, good mood fading a little as he glanced up at the composer.

"In that case, I should go find Eliza..." Gilbert, knowing that he didn't want Roderich to leave yet, shot his hand forward to gently take hold of his arm before Roderich could get away. When Roderich glanced at him in surprise, Gil just as quickly released him, reaching up instead to ruffle his hand through his white hair.

"D'you wanna join me for lunch?" He quickly asked, trying not to avert his gaze. "There's this cafe on the corner of the street that I usually go to for lunch. It's pretty good." He nervously watched as Roderich blinked in obvious surprised before he shrugged slightly.

"I suppose I might as well. I'm a bit hungry myself." Spirits soaring once more, Gilbert quickly grabbed his jacket from his locker before leading Roderich out the back door of the building and onto the street. Being still late in March, the air was chill though the sun peeked through the overcast clouds. Roderich tugged his coat tighter around himself, chin tucked into his grey scarf as Gilbert led the way to the cafe which was only a short walk away.

As Gil opened the door for Roderich, he tried to tell himself to calm down. However, that was kind of hard to do when the whole atmosphere of this lunch seemed to be similar to that of a  _date..._ He was almost positive that he probably had a stupid expression on his face as he watched Roderich's violet eyes curiously flit around the cozy cafe, a small smile coming to the composer's lips as he inhaled the scent of pastries and coffee. And as Gil led the way to a table next to the window looking out over the cobblestone streets of Vienna, he was pretty sure that if he were to die from happiness at that moment, he wouldn't be at all surprised.

~{*}~

Roderich was honestly kind of confused as to how he got into this situation; namely, sitting here in a small cafe across from the same exuberant man who had been 'cleaning' his home for the past several weeks. It wasn't entirely disagreeable to him, however. In fact, he had found the whole tour of the publishing company rather interesting, albeit a bit too loud for his taste as his slight headache confirmed. Gilbert had, surprisingly, been a rather comprehensive tour guide, taking time to explain the different printing steps and answering Roderich's questions to the best of his ability. And, he was rather hungry so this little detour to this small cafe wasn't wholly unpleasant. 

A waitress came up to take their orders, greeting Gilbert familiarly as she took their orders. Roderich was pleased to see that the cafe indeed made many of his favourite cakes and he ordered their Sachertorte without a second thought along with coffee. He didn't notice Gilbert's eyes on him until the man spoke up.

"You have a sweet tooth?" Roderich looked up from his adjusting of the silverware to look at the man across from him in surprise. He cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his seat.

"I appreciate the effort and love that go into the creation of the various cakes and pastries," he explained quietly. "It is an art within itself." Gilbert hummed thoughtfully as the waitress came back with their coffee.

"I suppose so. I know for sure I couldn't make something so fancy."

"Indeed. It requires a bit more care and patience than I think you possess."

"Hey, I can be patient!" Roderich huffed in amusement as Gilbert scowled at him, though his reddish eyes were full of mirth. That was something Roderich had noticed. Gilbert always had this energetic light in his eyes, no matter what he happened to be doing. He always seemed to be so... _optimistic._ About everything. Maybe it was because this was so different from Roderich's usual state of mind that he found it so tiring to be with him. But, at the same time, it was also never boring. _  
_

Before long, the waitress once again returned with Roderich's cake and Gilbert's simple but hearty looking ham and cheese on rye. Roderich took a small, dainty bite of the chocolate cake, a pleased smile crossing his features as he tasted the rich chocolate mixed with the apricot jam filling and the whipped cream.  _Delicious._

"Your planned collection really has the whole company in an uproar though," Gilbert was saying around his chewing. "Everyone's really proud of how far we've come. Just the fact that they decided to make a book with only your pieces up until now must mean that they really expect a lot from you in the future." Roderich's hand paused halfway up to his mouth as his violet eyes snapped up to meet Gilbert's. The familiar anxiousness took hold of his chest, forcing him to replace his fork and take a shaky sip of his coffee in order to calm his nerves.

However, his reaction to the words did not go unnoticed by Gilbert who immediately frowned and set his sandwich down. "Hey, you okay?" Roderich took a deep breath, glancing down at the decadent chocolate on the small plate.

"I'm fine. It's just that..." Roderich glanced back up at Gilbert and, at the genuine concern he saw in the other man's eyes, decided to run his problem past him. He loved Eliza and Lilli but sometimes, he knew, another opinion was useful. "It's those expectation for the future that have me nervous."

"You mean...you're worried you won't be able to keep writing music like everyone is sure you will?" At Roderich's nod, Gilbert shook his head. "You've been steadily creating music for the past five years. I don't think you'll have a problem." Roderich sighed, running a hand through his brown hair.

"You know all of those books that I came home with Saturday?" Gil nodded. "That was me trying to vainly pull from the past to create my own inspiration. I'm at my wits end and sometimes...it's hard remain optimistic about these things." Roderich poked at the Sachertorte, avoiding Gilbert's gaze as the German remained silent for a moment.

"Well, maybe your lack of inspiration is because you don't get out enough." Roderich looked up again and laughed softly, those words somehow very familiar to him.

"Perhaps," he lightly agreed. "I  _should_ get out more, I know. I've heard that before." Gilbert nodded confidently.

"I wouldn't worry," Gil said seriously. "I've seen every work we've ever published by you and you have a huge amount of talent. You're not washed up yet, Little Master." Roderich felt his cheeks flush ever so slightly as he offered Gilbert a grateful smile.

They finished their lunch in comfortable silence, Gilbert footing the bill despite Roderich's valiant protests. "You can get the next one," Gil said with a grin as he paid the waitress and left a generous tip. Roderich didn't miss the insinuation that they would get lunch together again but by now, what with all of their meetings lately, he wouldn't really be surprised if it did indeed happen.

As soon as they exited the warm cafe back into the chill March afternoon, Roderich received a text from Elizaveta. "Eliza wants me to meet her in the front lobby," Roderich said as they paused in front of the back door of the publishing company. He shivered a bit as a particularly nasty gust of wind whistled down the street, enclosed by the buildings of the downtown area. "So I guess this is where we part ways."

Gilbert nodded in acceptance as Roderich took a step away. He was halted though by Gil's hand on his shoulder, the warmth of it seeping through his long coat. He turned back to face him only to have Gilbert's hands deftly tightening Roderich's grey scarf around his neck.

"Don't want the great composer to catch a cold," Gil said with a lopsided grin as he stepped away and opened the back door, waving once behind him before disappearing back into the building. Roderich continued around to the front of the building, his own hand trailing up to touch his now-snug scarf, surprised at the thoughtful gesture but also idly wondering when he'd cross paths with the man again.

~{*}~

Gil was a goner. He had known that he was falling pretty hard before Monday had even happened, but now even he was beyond understanding how far he had fallen. This, coupled with the lonely, silent apartment he came home to every night, resulted in Gilbert's thoughts often drifting to Roderich, even more so than before. He kept seeing that look in his eyes when he was talking about his lack of inspiration. His expression had seemed so vulnerable in that moment, uncharacteristic of the composer's usual cool self-confidence and aloofness. Gil knew that Roderich had taken a chance in discussing his problems with him and Gilbert held onto that conversation like it was a gift of some sort, a way for Gilbert to get closer to him, to understand him more.

His fixation on Roderich also was not helped by the amount of meetings that had been held that week concerning the formatting and design of the upcoming collection. Seeing Roderich's name everywhere constantly, and hearing it being spoken throughout the day, did not help in directing his thoughts in other directions. Now, however, thoughts of the new book also brought up his knowledge of Roderich's worry that he wouldn't be able to keep up the flow of his work like everybody in the company expected him to do. Gilbert had faith in the composer's genius and he was quite sure that Roderich would be able to pull through. But he also found himself wondering if there was anything he himself could do to help.

Friday night finally rolled around after the long work week and Gil met up with Francis and Antonio as usual. After updating them on the situation with Roderich and their impromptu 'date' on Monday, Gilbert leaned back on his stool and looked at his friends square in the eyes. "I'm going to try and ask him out again tomorrow," he stated resolutely, having been pondering the idea in the back of his mind over the course of the week. "Maybe not to a bar this time but at a restaurant somewhere or something..." Francis and Toni exchanged grins before giving Gilbert a thumbs-up.

"Go for it, _mon ami,_ " Francis said with an affectionate smile, hoping that the stubborn composer would take pity on his poor love-struck friend.

"I'm sure everything will work out just fine," Antonio agreed, he himself thinking back to how difficult it had been for his own Lovi to finally say yes to a date.

Gilbert took a swig of his beer, excitement and anticipation filling him as he looked forward to the next day, confident that it would be the beginning of something special. He couldn't wait.

~{*}~

Roderich spent the rest of the week continuing to search for inspiration. Giving up, he knew, was not an option what with so many people riding on the certainty of him composing even more works. Gilbert seemed to have faith in him, misguided though it may be but Roderich knew that he wanted to uphold this reputation that he had worked so hard to create. It wasn't over yet.

Late Thursday afternoon, Roderich wandered out into his spacious backyard, lifting his face towards the warmth of the sun, the weather much different from how it had been on Monday. The huge willow tree in the center of the backyard was budding, the leaves slowly emerging after the cold of winter. The air was fresh and warm, just cool enough to be pleasant. Lilli would return from the hospital just in time for dinner and Roderich had already prepared a simple  _Gulasch_ with rolls.

A bird perched on the fence separating his yard from his neighbour on the right suddenly chirped cheerily, directing Roderich's attention to it. As the bird flew off into the blue sky, Roderich slowly made his way over to the tall fence which was now just a little bit bigger than he was. He reached out and touched the wood, a small smile crossing his features as a wave of nostalgia hit him. It seemed like so long ago when two little boys had played beneath this fence without a care in the world. He could almost hear their conversations and laughter drifting through the wind from the past.

Music was a funny thing sometimes. A melody often came from hours of hard work, the composer staring down at blank sheet music for hours at a time. But then there were times like this when a melody would just  _come_ to him, seemingly out of nowhere. It was as if it had been drifting in the back of his consciousness for a long time before finally meandering up into his waking mind and just touching his thoughts. Roderich quietly sighed, a slight smile on his face as he turned back to return inside his house. He had found a song.

Late Friday evening found Roderich busy at the piano, his violin also laying across his lap as notes leaped onto the sheets in front of him in quick succession. So engrossed was he in the flow of the music that he jumped a little at the small hand on his shoulder.

"It's going well?" Lilli asked, dressed in her scrubs, about to head out. Roderich nodded.

"For once," he said, making another note on the staff. 

"Roddy," Lilli slowly said after a moment of silence. "We're going tomorrow right?" Roderich's hand paused, the pencil stilling its movements.  _Ah yes. It's the last Saturday of the month, isn't it._

"Yes," he answered, slowly resuming his work. "Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Austrian pastries sound so freaking amazing, no wonder Roddy loves them.
> 
> And, I know this is so grossly late and I honestly can't apologize enough. I am ashamed. I /promise/ the next update will be in a week as I do already have the chapter written.  
> Heads up, this next chapter will be...different. That's all I will say for now but let's just say we're getting to the meat of the story now. You'll see more next week.
> 
> Thanks so much, those of you who will stick with me and my inconsistent updates. I will try to get better and not make you wait another almost two months. Agh I'm terrible.  
> Thanks for reading!! <3


	9. Edelweiss Part 1: Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April - August, 1993

 

April-August, 1993

Even at the tender age of seven, Roderich could always be found in the front room of his home which had been converted into a music room two years earlier as soon as it could be plainly seen that young Roderich would grow up to be a virtuoso in the musical arts. He could sit on the piano bench for hours on end, his still small fingers leaping and flying over the black and white keys, filling the large home with music from sunrise to sunset. His parents, though very supportive and eager to enhance his performance, often worried for him as he was not very socially adept, spending much of his time inside and not interacting with any children his own age at school, and there were hardly any kids at all in the privileged neighbourhood they lived in.

But Roderich was happy with the way things were, moving from composer to composer like other seven-year-olds moved from toy to toy. At least, he thought he was happy.

All that changed one day in the late spring of Roderich’s seventh year when, as he was sitting at the beautiful black grand piano, gazing at the complicated notes that Schubert had scribbled down a hundred and fifty years earlier, a large moving truck pulled up in front of the huge picture windows that Roderich was facing. A small, sleek black car drove up behind it and swung into the driveway of the house beside the Edelsteins’.

Roderich, curious as to what was happening outside, stood and approached the window, peering cautiously out at the scene in front of him.

The front door of the car opened and out stepped a tall man with blond hair who immediately approached the moving truck. The passenger door opened to reveal a shorter woman also with blond hair, though hers was pulled back into a loose bun.

“What is happening outside, Roderich?” Roderich looked behind him to see his mother enter the room, coming to stand behind him to join him in gazing out the window. “Oh!” She exclaimed, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Those must be our new neighbours! I was wondering when they would arrive.” The woman opened up the back door of the car and leaned in. When she emerged she was holding a toddler in her arms. Then the other back door opened and out hopped a young boy who looked to be about Roderich’s age with chin length blond hair. “Oh look Roderich!” His mother excitedly said. “They have children your age.” Roderich watched the boy and toddler warily, not in any rush to meet them. But his mother had other ideas.

The next thing Roderich knew, he was being taken by the hand and hurried out the front door into the bright midday sunshine, his mother dragging him along. They made their way down the stone pathway, careful to not trod on the pruned flower beds or immaculate front lawn as they reached the sidewalk and turned left towards their new neighbours’ house.

“Gutenmorgen!” Roderich’s mother said cheerfully as they approached the woman and children who had paused on their way to the house as they watched the arrival of their neighbours. “You are our new neighbours here, yes?”  

The woman smiled back at them, glancing down at Roderich kindly as she shifted the small girl to her other arms. Roderich hung behind his mother, peeking out from underneath her elbow as his gaze caught that of the boy his age who was standing beside his mother with his arms crossed over his chest, scrutinizing Roderich up and down with piercing green eyes.

“Yes, we are,” the woman replied. “My name is Elsbeth Zwingli. My husband,” she continued, motioning towards where the man was, still talking to the movers, “is Gunther Zwingli. And these are my two children: Vash and Lilli. We are from Switzerland but Gunther is an accountant and his head office is here in Vienna so we have moved here for his job.”  

Roderich’s mother, ever a friendly and open person, held out her hand for Elsbeth to shake. “It’s very nice to meet you, Elsbeth. I’m Katherine Edelstein and this is my son Roderich.” She reached behind her to place a hand on Roderich’s brown hair, pushing him up front a bit. Roderich kept his violet eyes trained on the driveway, unsure of what to say. “My husband, Thomas, is at work at the moment.”

“Can he talk?” Roderich’s gaze snapped up at the sound of the other boy’s questioning voice. Was he talking about him? It seemed to be so for the green-eyed boy was staring at him openly as if waiting for a response. Roderich debated silently in his mind for a little while if it was worth it to say something but before he could make up his mind, Vash’s mother tapped Vash on his head, smiling apologetically at Katherine.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a small roll of her own green eyes. “Sometimes Vash needs to learn when to speak and when to be silent.” Katherine laughed it off though.

“It’s perfectly alright. Sometimes I also wish Roderich would learn talk more.” Roderich dropped his gaze back to the ground and shuffled his feet. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to talk, it’s just that he had no idea what to say. It sometimes seemed as if the only language he could really could communicate in was music, but, unfortunately, it seemed as if not everyone understood that dialect.

“Ah, Gunther. Meet our neighbours Katherine and Roderich Edelstein.”  

“My husband, Thomas, will be sure to drop over when he gets home tonight to say hello and see if you need any help.”

“That would be much appreciated, Mrs Edelstein. We look forward to getting to know you. Right now though, Elsbeth, we should start moving in I think.” Roderich felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder again and he glanced up.

“Of course. We should be going as well,” his mother was saying cheerfully. “Welcome to the neighbourhood!” The Zwinglis bid them good day as Roderich and his mother headed back towards their house. As they walked down the sidewalk, Roderich couldn’t stop himself from taking a final glance back over his shoulder only to find the boy his age, Vash, still standing by the car and looking after him. Roderich whipped his head back to face the front again as violet met green and he hurried after his mother, wanting nothing more than to go back home and sit at his piano, working through that piece by Schubert alone.

~|{:}|~

Soon enough, summer came and Roderich was able to spend all day at his piano, school not being there to force him to interact with others. The Edelsteins and Zwinglis had become good friends over the span of a few months, the parents often going out for drinks on the weekends, leaving their children with their respective maids and nannies. Vash hadn’t made an appearance at Roderich’s school, apparently due to him not wanting to show up right at the end of the year. His three-year-old sister was still too young to go to school. Not that Roderich cared about any of this. He simply overheard it all from his parents. He wasn’t the least bit interested in anything outside of the sphere of his music and he was eager to spend his vacation at the piano, working through a new piece by Chopin.

However, one early afternoon, his mother interrupted his nearly flawless rendition of one of Chopin’s Nocturnes.  

“Roderich,” she sternly said, her hands on her hips as she looked down at him. Roderich looked back up at her, a small frown on his face, his hands paused over the keys. His mother reached down and pulled his hands away from the piano, bringing down the black cover with a small bang. “You are not allowed to touch this instrument for the rest of the afternoon. It’s a beautiful day outside! Go out into the backyard and act like a child for once!” Roderich frowned, about to argue, but that look in his mother’s brown eyes made him think better of it.

Sighing in frustration, he slid off of the piano bench, tugged on his outdoor shoes and wandered through the large house and into the big backyard.

It really was a huge place. A high wooden fence wound around it in a square, blocking it off from the other houses in the neighbourhood. The front half of the backyard comprised of a small stone patio and a stone walkway that wound through gardens of roses and daffodils and a small pond of water with a trickling waterfall. The back half of the backyard was covered with soft green grass, bushes in one corner and a huge willow tree standing in the middle.  

Roderich stood on the patio for a few minutes, letting the breeze ruffle his hair, taking a deep breath. It really was a nice day, he supposed. He slowly walked down one of the stone paths, heading for the willow tree where he sometimes liked to sit and look up at the waving branches.  

He sat with his back to the trunk, gazing up at the blue sky through the green covered branches. He did like being outside every now and then but he only wished his mother wouldn’t force it on him. Roderich gave a small sigh and allowed his eyes to drift close, thinking that he could maybe fall asleep like this.

However, just as he was about to get comfortable, he heard a sudden cry come from the backyard next door. His violet eyes shot wide open. That sounded like a boy’s yell… Roderich got to his feet and slowly approached the high wooden fence. He put his ears close to the slats and closed his eyes.

Huh. Nothing. How strange. He could have sworn he’d heard a boy’s voice coming from next door…

“What are you doing?” Roderich leaped back from the fence, his head snapping up in the direction where the voice was coming from. There, perched on top of the fence, a stick grasped in one hand, was Vash Zwingli. He was gazing down at Roderich with calm green eyes, obviously not thinking twice about the fact that he was poised seven feet off of the ground.

“How did you get up there?” That was the first question that came from Roderich’s mouth as he stared up at the other boy. But Vash merely shrugged, tossing his stick down to the ground beside Roderich.  

“I climbed,” he responded. He then steadied his crouch on top of the fence and then sprung into the air and dropping to the ground. Roderich gasped as he hit the ground beside him heavily, falling onto his side for a brief second before bouncing right back to his feet, stick in hand, brushing his blond hair out of his face. Roderich took a hesitant step away, eyeing the stick warily as Vash raised it and pointed it straight at him. Roderich hadn’t been this close to the eldest Zwingli since they had first met months earlier, only really seeing him from outside his window going in and out of his house.

“You know,” Vash said, not moving the stick away from its disconcerting presence in front of Roderich’s face, “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you speak. You sure are shy.” Roderich frowned at that and put out a hand to force the stick away.

“I’m not shy,” he responded imperiously. “I just never had anything to say.” Vash regarded him for a moment before shrugging, turning back to the fence.  

“You sure were surprised when you saw me up there,” he said, in a voice that was obviously very self-satisfied. “It wasn’t that hard of a climb, really. I’ve done worse up in the mountains.”

“You’ve been to the mountains?” Roderich asked, his curiosity piqued despite himself. He’d always wanted to go up to the mountains one day but he had hardly, in his seven years, ventured out of Vienna. Vash turned back to him and smiled smugly.

“Yup. My parents have a chalet up there that we spend a month in every summer. In fact, we’re leaving next week.” Roderich’s fascination must have been plainly evident in his face as Vash was obviously thrown for a loop as to how to continue. He reached up to scratch the back of his head as his other hand toyed with the stick still in his hands. “Maybe you could come up with us one year.” Roderich blinked at the offer and immediately drew himself back with a slight shrug, trying to come off as disinterested even though his heart had leapt in excitement.

“Perhaps,” he agreed. They looked at each other for a few moments in silence before Vash was suddenly running off across the Edelstein backyard towards where the few carefully maintained bushes in the corner were. Roderich watched curiously as Vash carefully placed his own stick on the grass and then climbed into the midst of the bushes.

“What are you doing?” Roderich asked, slowly walking over to where he was. Vash didn’t answer as he waded through the prickly boughs, ignoring the clawing branches that scraped his arms.

“Aha!” Roderich jumped at the loud exclamation as Vash suddenly disappeared from view as he bent in the midst of the bushes. He then emerged, jumping out of the plants with another stick similar to his own held aloft in the air. Picking up his own stick where he had left it, he handed the other one to Roderich.

“Fight me,” he stated seriously, holding up his stick and pointing it towards Roderich like a sword. Roderich looked from Vash, to Vash’s stick, to his own stick and then back again in incredulity.

“Excuse me?”

“Fight me! You know, like sword fighting!” Vash patiently explained, swinging his stick around for emphasis a little. Roderich looked back at him dumbly. Vash sighed. “I would have liked to use my gun but it would have been too hard to carry over.” Was this guy serious? Roderich didn’t have much time to ponder this question as the boy apparently got tired of waiting and charged at him, lifting his stick up in the air, his green eyes alight with some sort of disturbing fire.

Roderich cried out and lifted his stick instinctively, squeezing his eyes shut. He felt the impact of the colliding sticks reverberate throughout his whole body. He almost dropped his stick, but somehow managed to hold onto it. He slowly cracked open his eyes to see Vash smiling at him in approval.

“There you go! You did it! Now, again!” Before Roderich could recover himself, Vash was suddenly swinging his stick towards him again. This time, however, Roderich was a little bit more prepared as he now knew what was expected of him. He carefully blocked Vash’s swipe and pushed him back a little, still tentative. But no matter how many times he did that, Vash always kept coming back for more. Soon Roderich was tired, parrying the assaults sapping a lot of energy from him, especially since he wasn’t used to doing so much physical exercise. He wanted to tell Vash that he was getting tired, but his pride, unfortunately, wouldn’t let him. So his arms became jelly and the stick became lead and there came a point when Roderich just couldn’t lift the stick up to block Vash’s strike.

Roderich let out a small cry as Vash’s stick struck him in the shoulder, pushing his already tired body down to the soft green grass below their feet, his own sword falling from his hand.

No sooner had he fallen to the grass than Vash was at his side, his green eyes wide and apologetic as his hands reached for the short sleeve of Roderich’s light blue button-up shirt. “I’m sorry!” He exclaimed as he pushed the sleeve up past the shoulder so he could examine the damage his swing had caused. Roderich watched as Vash’s hand lightly touched the red spot on his shoulder, his gaze clearing as he took stock of the damage. “Not bleeding,” he said with satisfaction, looking up at Roderich and smiling. “It’ll probably just be a bruise.” Roderich blinked back at him. He’d never had a bruise before.

Roderich heard the back door of his house open. “Roderich! Are you okay?” Roderich glanced up as his mother quickly made her way through the garden towards them as Vash helped him to his feet.  

“It’s okay, Mrs Edelstein,” Vash reassured her, keeping a steadying arm around Roderich’s shoulder as he helped him towards her, even though Roderich was a little bit taller than he was. “We were just playing a bit and he got hit with a stick. No blood.” Katherine looked down at her son in amazement. Roderich was playing? Physically playing? She wasn’t even the least bit upset that the game had ended in a bruising. It was just so refreshing to see him actually playing an active game with a boy his own age. She looked down at Vash, smiling at the way he was supporting her son.

“Thank you very much Vash,” she said warmly. “Would you like to come in and have some fresh-made strudel with milk?” Vash glanced at Roderich who stared back at him, his violet eyes not really giving any emotions away.

“Sure, thank you!” Vash responded enthusiastically. He wasn’t one to bypass free food. Roderich entered his house with another jolt of surprise. This was the first person he’d ever brought home with him. Vash sure was becoming a lot of firsts for him. Vash’s arm dropped from around his shoulders as they entered the home and made their way into the kitchen where the two boys took a seat at the granite island in the middle. Vash looked around the kitchen as Roderich’s mother prepared the snacks.

“It looks like my house,” he stated. Roderich nodded in acknowledgment as his mother placed a plate of strudel and two glasses of milk in front of them.  

“I’ll just be upstairs boys. There’s a whole bunch of folded laundry today that I want to get sorted.” Katherine backed away as the two seven-year-olds began to eat and left the kitchen with a smile on her face. She couldn’t wait to tell Elsbeth about how their sons were going to be the best of friends.

Roderich ate in silence, occasionally glancing at Vash who slowly and meticulously ate every crumb from his plate and then moved on to drink the glass of milk down to the very last drop. Once they were done, Roderich having put the dishes into the sink, Vash glanced at him from the stool that he was still sitting on as Roderich leaned slightly against the counter. “I guess you don’t really get out that much,” Vash stated, raising a blond eyebrow. Roderich frowned slightly. “I mean,” Vash continued, “you kind of got tired really quickly out there. Though, if that was your first time doing that I’m really impressed cause you were pretty good for a beginner.” Roderich tilted his head slightly, a small smile crossing his lips at the praise.

“It was my first time.” Vash smiled and hopped down from the stool.

“Then we’ll keep doing it until you’re almost better than me.”

“Almost better than you?” Roderich asked. Vash nodded, his face completely serious.

“It’s impossible to be better than me at swordplay. And also when it comes to shooting. You shouldn’t even try.” Roderich stared at him, shocked at the total confidence behind his words. Then Vash was laughing, a bright and unexpected sound but not at all unpleasant. “You should see your face!” He crowed, stopping in front of where Roderich was leaning against the counter. “I’m only kidding. Well, kind of. You should try, though I don’t know if it’ll do you much good. But trying is always a good thing.” Roderich blinked slowly at him before nodding. Vash looked at him for a few more moments before glancing away, his cheeks lightly tinged red. Embarrassment?  

“So…what do you do, then, if not hanging around outside?” Roderich raised a dark eyebrow at the question.

“You really want to see?” He asked, suddenly a bit shy at the prospect of having someone other than his parents hear his music. Vash looked back at him, his green eyes now curious, nodding energetically.

“Yeah!” So Roderich slowly led him through the house to his music room, pausing in the doorway so Vash could look in.  

Vash gazed around the large room in surprise, taking in the flutes and violins and cellos lying around and sheet music spread out everywhere along the shiny wooden floor. But what really drew his attention was the beautiful grand piano in the centre of the room that faced the large front windows looking out onto the street.  

“You play all of these?” Vash asked as Roderich stepped inside and proceeded to take a seat at the piano bench.

“Yes,” he answered, flipping through pages of sheet music on the piano. “Though, I like the piano the best.” Roderich glanced at Vash as he came to stand beside the piano, his pretty violet eyes hesitant. “Would…you like me to play for you?” Vash swallowed, suddenly feeling kind of awkward as he nodded.

“Sure,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the piano, trying to appear nonchalant. He watched as Roderich lifted his fingers to the instrument, took a deep breath, closed his eyes and began to play.  

It was like nothing Vash had ever seen before. Gone was the Roderich of before, the stuffy, kind of awkward little prince who didn’t like to talk and who could barely fight him off with a stick. This Roderich was…beautiful. Yes, beautiful. His small body was loose as his long fingers danced along the black and white keys, a gorgeous sound being spun from beneath those small hands. Roderich’s expression was completely calm and free, his longish dark brown hair flopping over his forehead as he played. Vash felt himself become transfixed with the sight and the sound, so much so that he almost didn’t realize when Roderich had stopped playing. The next thing he knew, the music had stopped and Roderich was looking at him with those strange purple eyes. Vash felt a blush cover his cheeks.

“Well?” Roderich asked softly, almost hesitantly. Vash cleared his throat.

“That was…really, really cool, Roderich,” Vash said, as sincerely as he could, smiling at the other boy. “I didn’t know you were so good at the piano.” Roderich smiled slightly at him, folding his hands on his lap.  

“Thanks,” he quietly said.  

“What song was that?” Vash asked, coming to stand beside the piano bench so that he could see what sheet music he had been using.

“Actually,” Roderich said slowly, “I made that song up myself.”

“Huh?” Vash cried out in amazement. “Seriously?! That’s so cool!” Roderich felt a blush heat up his cheeks as he tried to shrug it off.

“I usually tend to stick to well-known classical songs, but sometimes I like just making things up.”  

“That was so good though! You should totally be a composer when you grow up. Everyone would want to listen to your music!” Roderich glanced at Vash out of the corner of his eye as he shrugged.

“I always wanted to be a concert pianist. It’s only been a few months since I’ve started trying to make my own music. I’m not…that confident yet, I guess.” Roderich jumped a little as he felt Vash put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, I think you could do both, cause that song was really pretty. You should totally become a composer!” Roderich smiled.

“I’ll think about it.” Suddenly, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room struck four o’clock in the afternoon.

“Ah, shoot, I gotta go home. Ma will be wondering where I went.” Roderich slipped off of the piano bench and led Vash out of the music room.

“Do you want to go out the front door like a normal person? Or will you be climbing the fence again?” Vash grinned wickedly.

“Do you even have to ask?” Roderich hid a smile as they walked back through the house and into the backyard once more. Vash collected his stick from where he had dropped it and then they went and stood by the fence that separated the Zwingli and Edelstein backyards. With a good swing of his arm, Vash’s stick sailed over the tall fence. Vash then stuck a foot in between the wooden slats, wedging it in good before turning his head to look at Roderich over his shoulder, the other foot still planted on the earth.

“See you tomorrow?” He asked. Roderich blinked in surprise. Tomorrow? Vash wanted to see him tomorrow too? He shuffled his feet slightly, suddenly not quite knowing where to look.

“I-I guess…” He trailed off lamely, gazing down at the grass.

“Cool,” Vash said happily. Roderich looked back up as Vash quickly climbed up the fence like a monkey, making it look almost childishly simple, though Roderich knew that if he ever tried he’d probably end up with worse than a bruise. Vash paused at the top of the fence, balancing in a precarious crouch as he looked back down at Roderich and raised his hand to his head in a salute. “’Til tomorrow then!” He cried before leaping off the fence and disappearing onto the other side. Roderich heard him land with a heavy “oof!” before shouting “I’m okay!” back over.

Roderich quickly retreated back into the house, closing the door behind him before letting a genuinely happy smile cross his face. He almost skipped down the shiny wooden hallway and up the carpeted spiral stairs to his parents’ room where his mother was sorting laundry. She glanced up as he walked in.

“Vash went home?” She asked with a smile as she took in the expression on her only child’s face. Roderich nodded, not even, for once, trying to contain his excitement.  

“He said he’d see me tomorrow though,” he explained happily.

“That’s great, honey,” Katherine said, walking over to her son and placing a small kiss on the top of his head.  

“He also said I should become a composer,” Roderich continued thoughtfully. Katherine smiled in happiness. She knew how talented her son was, and how many choices he would have in the future. Maybe Vash Zwingli would be able to help guide him onto the path that he was meant to be on.

“I’m so glad you made friends with him, Roderich,” she quietly said, squeezing her son’s shoulder before turning back to her laundry with a heart considerably less burdened. Roderich slowly backed out of the master bedroom and turned to his own room, going inside and closing the door. He gently flopped down on his bed and stared up at the white ceiling.

“Friends…”

~|{:}|~

And Vash did come back the next day. And the day after that, and the day after that one. For the whole next week, Vash would, in the early afternoon, scale over the fence and drop down into the Edelstein’s backyard where Roderich would be waiting (though he of course tried to make it look like he hadn’t been waiting for him). They played as boys of seven would, which was basically how Vash would play all the time if he had had any other kids his age around before meeting Roderich.

“Lilli is still a baby,” he said one afternoon as he crouched by the small stone pond, poking the water with a stick, looking for the goldfish Roderich claimed were in there. “She’s no fun. She says she’ll want to play with me but if she gets even a little bit hurt she’ll start crying. Girls are so soft.” Roderich stood behind him, his gaze also fixed on the water though his hand was rubbing the side of his arm which had gotten scratched in a little mishap with the bushes.

“She’s only three,” Roderich said, ever the voice of reason. “Maybe she’ll get better when she gets older.” Vash shrugged then turned his head and looked up at Roderich, a smile on his face.

“Who needs her when I have you?” Roderich looked away quickly, frowning as a blush stole across his cheeks.

“She is your sister…” Vash stood, apparently giving up on spearing a fish and lightly punched Roderich on the arm.  

“Nah, you’ll always be more fun.” He then dashed over to the willow tree and proceeded to try climbing up the thick trunk, Roderich standing below and yelling at him to stop being so dumb and to get down before he hurt himself.

~|{:}|~

Sunday afternoon, just a bit over a week since Vash had begun making his daily forays into Roderich’s backyard, Roderich came home from church with his parents in the pouring rain. Roderich stood at his piano and gazed out the front window at the grey skies and sheets of rain, thinking that he probably wouldn’t be seeing Vash today. He was a bit annoyed that that upset him just a little bit. Unsure of what to do, he wandered out of the music room and into the kitchen, thinking that he might get a glass of milk before sitting at his piano. However, as soon as he opened up the fridge he heard a banging on the glass back door of the house. Roderich dashed out into the hallway and stood, staring through the glass at one very wet Vash who was hammering incessantly at the door.

Roderich quickly threw open the door and stepped back to allow Vash to come inside, closing the door against the rain once again. Vash stood in the middle of the hallway, shivering as his drenched white shirt came in contact with the house’s air conditioning, looking for all the world like a drowned rat with his longish blond hair plastered to his cheeks, looking darker than usual due to how wet he was.

“You know, you could use the front door,” Roderich stated simply, gazing at the other boy. Vash glared at him, folding his arms across his chest, more out of the need to get warm than anything else.

“I like climbing the fence,” Vash muttered, his green eyes darting away.

“Roderich? Did I hear someone at the back door? Who – oh! Vash!” Roderich looked up to see his mother come into the hallway and stop when she saw the oldest Zwingli child looking half-drowned just inside her back door. “Oh dear, you’re absolutely soaked! Roderich, take him up to your room and get him some dry clothes.” Roderich silently moved to obey his mother, reaching out to push Vash down the hallway ahead of him.

“Oh, I don’t need…” But Roderich’s mother interrupted Vash’s protests.

“You’ll catch a cold like that, my dear,” she sternly said. “Do your parents know where you are?” Vash mutely shook his head. Katherine sighed though an indulgent smile crossed her lips. “I’ll let them know you’re here then.” Vash reluctantly nodded and let Roderich push him down the hallway to where the carpeted stairs were that led up to the second floor.

Vash only glanced around a bit as they walked up the stairs, Roderich’s home much the same as his own. He allowed Roderich to lead him into his room down at the end of the hall at the top of the stairs, Roderich only hesitating for a split second before opening the door and ushering Vash into the large bedroom. Vash glanced around the room as Roderich moved over to the large wardrobe and pulled it open, searching inside for clean clothes. It was a bit messier than Vash had expected, the big desk by the window that overlooked the backyard cluttered with sheet music and pencils and CDs, the bed sheets slightly rumpled on the big queen-sized bed. Roderich probably looks super small whenever he’s sleeping, Vash thought in amusement before remembering that he himself was slightly smaller than Roderich was. The pale blue walls were bare, unlike Vash’s whose walls were covered with a lot of posters of guns and Swiss Army knives. He wasn’t crazy or anything, he just kind of liked them. They were his hobby, so to speak. Didn’t people usually put posters of their hobbies or things that they liked on their walls? Except for Roderich, apparently.

“Here,” Roderich said, pushing an old t-shirt and pair of jeans into Vash’s arms. Vash raised his blond eyebrows in surprise at the casual clothing. Roderich glanced away, fiddling with his glasses. “Those are the only clothes I own that best match your…style.” Vash snickered as he placed the clothes on Roderich’s bed and quickly pulled his cold, soaking wet shirt over his, shivering as his body came into contact with the air. Roderich sighed as he crossed the room to fiddle with some things on his desk. “You know, I do have my own bathroom,” he muttered, gesturing slightly at a door in the corner beside the wardrobe.

“S’okay,” Vash said quickly as he hurriedly pulled off his wet pants and hopped into Roderich’s jeans which were just a tad too long for him. “See? I’m done already.” Roderich turned back around and gathered up Vash’s wet clothes and put them in his hamper in the corner. He then returned to perch on the edge of his bed, patting for Vash to sit beside him on the pale purple covers.

“So why did you come over today?” Roderich asked, tilting his head slightly, his slightly long wavy chocolate brown hair flopping over his forehead, that one little curl escaping to fly in the air. “It’s Sunday and it’s raining.” Vash joined Roderich on the bed, flopping backwards to lie on the soft mattress, gazing up at the white ceiling.

“It’s ‘cause I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” he stated simply, glancing quickly at Roderich to see his reaction. Roderich looked down at Vash, his peculiar violet eyes widening slightly.

“Where are you going?” He asked. “For how long?” Vash fought back a smug smile as he noticed the worried tone in Roderich’s voice.

“We’re going to our chalet just outside of Feldkirch,” Vash responded simply. “We’ll be gone for three weeks. I’ll be back two days before school is supposed to start.”

“Oh.” Vash watched Roderich look down at his clasped hands which rested on his lap. “That sounds nice. I’d like to go to the mountains one day.” Roderich’s voice sounded so wistful that it made Vash’s heart ache a little bit to leave him behind.

“Next year,” Vash stated. Roderich’s head snapped up, looking down at the blond boy lying on his bed.

“Pardon me?”

“Next year,” Vash said again, allowing a smile to cross his lips, keeping his gaze on the white ceiling. “I’ll bring you along next year. It’s a promise.” Roderich was silent for a moment and then, to Vash’s surprise, he felt Roderich slowly lower himself to lie down beside him so that both of them were now staring at the ceiling.

“Okay,” Roderich quietly said, sealing the deal. They stayed like that for a few minutes, the silence broken only by the sound of the rain pattering on the bedroom window. Vash’s clothes smelled of lilac detergent and Roderich.

“While I’m gone you have to promise me to go outside at least once every day,” Vash suddenly said, turning his head to the side to meet Roderich’s violet gaze. “I don’t want you to get lazy on me while I’m not here to push you.” Roderich’s lips twitched in amusement as he rolled his violet eyes.

“Yes sir,” he mockingly responded. “Right away, sir.” Vash snorted in laughter at the strange words coming out of Roderich’s mouth that were so unlike him.

“Oh,” Vash suddenly said, turning back to looking up at the ceiling once more. “I forgot to tell you that my birthday was a bit more than a week ago, so I’m older than you now.” Roderich sat up suddenly and frowned down at Vash.

“Really? You’re eight now?” Vash nodded, grinning up at him. “When’s your birthday?” He demanded, violet eyes narrow.

“August first,” Vash promptly responded. “So you must listen to whatever I say ‘cause I am your elder.” Roderich rolled his eyes again, this time following it with a poke to Vash’s stomach.

“Oh please,” he retorted, hopping off the bed. “My birthday is on October twenty-sixth. Less than three months is hardly what I’d call a ginormous age gap.” Vash snickered, pushing himself up on his elbows to watch Roderich mess around with the sheets on his desk.

“You’re just jealous,” he taunted teasingly, watching in satisfaction as the tips of Roderich’s ears turned red with embarrassment though he didn’t turn around.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered, his long-fingered hands moving restlessly through the papers covering his desk. Vash watched him for a few moments, suddenly thinking about Roderich hanging around alone in this empty room. How did he survive before Vash came?

“Whatcha doin’?” Vash asked, hopping suddenly off of the bed and making his way over to where Roderich was standing, the other boy jumping a little as Vash stood by his side. Roderich glanced at him slightly, his cheeks red, before averting his gaze quickly, frowning down at the desk.

“I-I was looking for a present to give you…” He muttered. Vash’s green eyes widened in surprise.

“Really?” He asked, keeping his gaze trained on Roderich’s red face. He loved how easy it was to make this guy blush. Just like a girl. “You don’t have to. You didn’t even know it was my birthday.” Roderich sighed.

“Yeah, but…” Suddenly Roderich opened the drawer of his desk and reached in way into the back. When he pulled his hand out he was holding a small silver box, carefully handcrafted it looked like, various tiny flowers engraved into the lid with a small range of mountains trailing along the four sides.

Vash reached out a hand to gently touch the design. “That’s edelweiss,” he stated. “They grow all around my chalet.”

“My grandfather made this,” Roderich quietly said, holding the small box in two hands now. “It’s a music box.” Roderich raised his gaze to meet Vash’s eyes. “I want to give it to you.” Vash suddenly felt Roderich push the silver box into his hands, feeling the weight of the mountains come into his possession. His green eyes grew wide.

“I can’t take something like that,” he protested, trying to give the box back. “That’s way too special.” Roderich shook his head though, a small frown on his face.

“Please accept it,” he quietly said. “This…this is the first gift I’ve ever tried to give someone…” Vash dropped wide green eyes to the silver box, biting his lip in indecision. Sure it was pretty, but Roderich’s grandfather had made it. Wasn’t it like a special family heirloom or something? He watched as Roderich’s long, nimble fingers opened the clasp of the music box, Vash keeping his hands steady. As soon as the lid opened, small tinkling notes filled the room as a familiar melody encompassed them.

“It’s Edelweiss,” Vash said in surprise, smiling at Roderich. “I know that song.” Roderich kept his gaze on the box though his lips twitched up in a small smile as well. “It’s pretty.”

“I’m glad,” he quietly said. He raised violet eyes to stare at Vash straight in the face. “Please. Take it to your chalet and leave it there. Think of it as a promise to bring me there one day.” Vash kept his gaze on Roderich as the small beautiful notes filled the silence. Bloom and grow, bloom and grow forever…

Vash sighed quietly before nodding, softly closing the music box and holding it in his hands protectively. “Thanks, Roderich,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “I’ll take good care of it.” On impulse, holding the music box in one hand, Vash threw his other arm around Roderich and pulled him into a tight hug, struggling not to blush himself as he wasn’t a very touchy-feely person. Roderich was stiff for a moment but he soon relaxed and hugged Vash back. They stayed like that for a few moments before Vash slowly stepped back, releasing Roderich from his hold.  

“I have to get going,” he said with a small smile. “Ma wanted me to help her pack. I’ll get her to drop off your clothes before we leave.” Roderich shook his head, offering Vash his own attempt at a smile.

“You can keep the clothes. I won’t use them anyways. Have fun,” he quietly said. Vash nodded and then turned away, walking swiftly out of the room and slipping down the stairs and letting himself out the front door for the first time, holding Roderich’s gift close to his heart, trying to protect it from the rain that filled the warm air.

Roderich meanwhile slowly returned to sit on his bed, listening as his front door opened and then closed. He stared down at the carpet for a bit before falling backward to lay in the same spot that Vash had been laying in moments before. It was still warm…

“Roderich?” Katherine walked into her son’s room to find him alone and lying on his bed. “Vash went home already?” Roderich nodded.

“They’re going to their chalet in the mountains for three weeks tomorrow.” Katherine nodded, hiding a small smile at the slightly despondent tone in her son’s voice.

“Yes, Elsbeth told me. They’ll be back right before school, though. Vash will be in your class so that will be good.” Roderich hummed noncommittally. Katherine sat beside her son and placed a hand down on his dark brown hair.

“He’ll be back before you know it,” she reassured him gently. Roderich looked up at her with wide violet eyes before quickly glancing away, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“I won’t miss him,” he muttered sulkily. Katherine smirked, a chuckle escaping her lips.  

“Of course not, dear,” she softly said, standing to leave. “Of course not.”

~|{:}|~

It was a long three weeks for Roderich. His days were suddenly as they had been before Vash had come jumping over his fence: quiet and monotonous, wandering around the big house that suddenly seemed rather lonely. When he wasn’t at his piano, chasing away the silence with his practice, Roderich often found himself outside in his backyard, Vash’s influence on him making itself known. He would often just crouch down by the small fish pond, staring down at the water – though of course not getting too close to the edge lest he fall in. Or he would sometimes sit underneath the willow tree and think about trying to climb it, though he of course knew that that was a dumb idea. He’d admit that it was nice being outside, even if Vash’s absence was acutely felt in the lack of noise and physical activity.

Only once in his childhood did Roderich ever try to climb the fence that separated the Edelstein and Zwingli’s backyards, and it was two weeks into Vash’s vacation. Roderich had been eying the fence speculatively over the past couple of days, carefully weighing the pros and cons of attempting the feat. But, eventually, the thought of surprising Vash with his sudden prowess won over the urgings of his common sense and he found himself slowly edging towards the wooden fence. He tilted his head back to frown at the top, three feet above his head, clenching his hands at his sides. Determined, he stuck his shoe-covered foot in one of the gaps between the slats like he had seen Vash do numerous times before, wedging it in tightly before reaching up to grasp onto the fence tightly with both hands. Bouncing a bit on the foot still planted on the ground, he pushed himself up with all of his might, bringing that foot up and jamming it as well between the slats. He realized, with a burst of elation, that he was off of the ground! That elation quickly fizzled out when he also came to the conclusion that he had no idea of where to go from here. He was stuck in midair, his body bent at an almost forty degree angle. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, he thought in a panic as he felt his hands begin to slip. He tried to take his feet out from between the slats but they wouldn’t budge. No, no, no, NO! With a strangled cry, Roderich’s hands lost their grip on the wooden fence and he fell backwards, landing with a thud on the grass below, his feet painfully wrenching free with the fall.

Roderich lay there for several minutes, the wind knocked out of him as he watched white puffy clouds scuttle past, nursing his wounded pride and just glad that no one had seen that. Vash would never let me hear the end of it.

~|{:}|~

The last week of Vash’s absence slid quietly by for Roderich, his thoughts beginning to move ahead to the rapidly approaching start of school. Roderich never really cared much for school, only really going to attend music class, well-aware that it would aid him in the future. He didn’t particularly like talking to his fellow classmates as they didn’t really like talking to him either. They weren’t mean to him exactly, it was more like they just didn’t know what to say and he was not very good at starting conversations; or maintaining them for that matter. In short, Roderich, as has already been stated, was not exactly the best at making friends as a child.

Which was why he was looking forward to Vash’s return with a lot more excitement than would have been expected from him, seeing as the Swiss boy was the closest thing he had ever had to a real ‘friend’.

“I got a call from Vash’s mom last night saying that they would be home at about two this afternoon,” Katherine said, two days before the boys would be due back at school. She watched as her son glanced up quickly from his book before looking away as he caught her gaze, shifting a bit and shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s nice,” he said indifferently, feigning being completely immersed in his novel. But later that afternoon, Katherine looked out her window as she watched Roderich take a seat on a rock by the small pond, book in hand under the warm late summer sun as he obviously awaited Vash’s return. Katherine turned away with a smile, happy at the fact that Roderich had so obviously missed Vash and also looking forward to the changes that the boy would bring to her son’s life both at school and at home. This friendship can only work out for the better, she thought as she affectionately gathered her son’s school uniform from his drawer to wash. For both of them.

And as Roderich was sitting under the sun, trying to focus on his book while attempting to not be too obvious in his stakeout of the fence, Vash dashed out into his backyard after quickly dumping his and Lilli’s suitcase upstairs and ran to the fence, taking a moment to peek through the slats. He grinned when he saw Roderich sitting nearby, nose pressed into a book while his violet eyes darted up to the fence every now and then.  

With fluid, well-practiced movements, Vash quickly climbed to the top of the fence, crouching for a moment at the top to stare down over at Roderich whose head shot up at the sound.

“I’m back!” Vash called, leaping off the edge to land back down on the grass, his legs expertly handling the impact.

“So I see,” Roderich replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. “Welcome home.”

“Did you miss me?” Vash asked with a grin as he walked up to the other boy and looked down at him, reaching down to ruffle his floppy brown hair. Roderich rolled his eyes and huffed, swatting Vash’s hand away even as a light blush covered his pale cheeks.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo...yeah.  
> There will be about 9-10 parts like this spread, relatively evenly, throughout the rest of this fic. They'll come with a date and the titles will be different so you'll be able to tell which part is which.  
> Writing them as small precious little children was actually really rewarding lol.  
> Hope this didn't throw too many people off haha.  
> Thank you for reading!


	10. A Resting Place

Gil woke up Saturday morning in a pretty good mood. Ludwig and Feliciano were due home from Italy the next day and Gilbert was looking forward to having other people besides himself inhabiting the apartment. He also greatly missed Feli's cooking. But his mind was also looking forward to asking the little master out - yet again - as his confidence had been restored by their chance meeting on Monday and their subsequent 'date' at the cafe. Gilbert was persuaded that there was no reason why Roderich should refuse a simple invitation to a nondescript restaurant for dinner. It was innocent enough right?

The only question that Gilbert kept coming back to was what  _kind_ of restaurant they should go to. What did Roderich prefer? Did he like more traditional dishes? Or did he prefer foreign food like Italian or maybe Greek..?  _Maybe I could let him choose?_ Gil thought to himself as he made the drive to Roderich's home that afternoon, the sky heavy with low, grey clouds that promised a late March rain later that evening.  _But would that make me look too indecisive?_ Gil wanted to slap himself for thinking like a love-struck teenage girl, fretting over every single thing, triple-analyzing every word and action they made. As he pulled into Roderich's driveway, he decided to just wing it. His plans never seemed to work out anyways.

Even the air smelled like rain as Gil got out of his car and walked up the stone pathway to Roderich's front door. He hunched his shoulders slightly as the damp breeze threatened to cut through his thin spring jacket. He really couldn't wait for the warmer days of spring.

Without hesitation, Gilbert rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer the door. A minute passed and no sound came from the other side of the door. Gil frowned slightly and rang the doorbell again, leaning on it for a bit longer and then waited some more. Still no one came. Gil pressed the small button one more time, trying to peer in through the frosted window on the door. No one answered.

~{*}~

"Looks like rain," Lilli quietly commented as Roderich pulled the car through the front gates of the  _Zentralfriedhof,_ or the Central Cemetery of Vienna. The cemetery was quite a ways outside of Vienna for being the city's main cemetery but it was one of the largest in Europe. It was the final resting place of numerous musicians such as Beethoven, Brahms and Schubert which were of course very popular tourist attractions. Roderich had already paid his respects to those great composers in his younger days. He'd been coming here on the last Saturday of every month for the past few years to visit more important people. 

"It's supposed to rain this evening," Roderich said as he slowly drove through the winding roads, past row upon row of graves and memorials out to where the newer and smaller interments were located. He slowly pulled the car over to the side of the narrow road, halfway onto the green grass that led up to the closest row of small gravestones. 

The two of them got out of the car silently, Lilli holding a few small bunches of forget-me-nots in her arms, picked up on their way here from a flower shop as the ones in the backyard hadn't yet bloomed. The light blue of the flowers seemed to shine even brighter amid the gray of the day as they slowly walked past the rows of dead, the silence of the moment peaceful. 

They came to a stop in front of a medium-sized granite headstone elegantly engraved with the names Gunther and Elsbeth Zwingli. Roderich watched as Lilli slowly crouched down in front of the grave, laying a bundle of the blue flowers at the base of the stone. "Hi Dad, Mom. Roddy and I are back to visit." Roderich stood still for a few moments, paying his respects before gently laying his hand on Lilli's blonde hair, letting her know that he was moving on. _  
_

Roderich slowly made his way down a few more rows, hands in his pockets as he came to a stop before a familiar, slightly smaller headstone, not too far from where Lilli's parents were resting. Roderich gazed down at the name engraved on the stone in silence for a few moments, shivering slightly as a damp wind blew against his light jacket. He slowly pulled a hand out of his pocket and leaned down, gently placing it on top of the stone as he sighed softly. "Hello, Vash."

~{*}~

Needless to say, Gilbert was kind of at a loss as he awkwardly loitered on Roderich's front porch when nobody came to greet him at the door. From what he'd seen, Roderich was the reclusive type who probably had nowhere better to be on Saturday afternoons at home. Why should this Saturday be any different? Frustration filled him as he slowly walked back to his car, aware of how creepy he probably looked in front of this grand home. He got into his car and leaned back in the seat, letting his eyes close briefly as a heavy sigh passed his lips. And here he'd been, getting all excited and worked-up to see him again and Roderich was off who knows where doing who knows what with who knows whom. Gil was very acutely reminded of how little he really knew about the composer's life and that fact only served to make him feel worse.

Gilbert drove aimlessly around the neighbourhood for the next little while, trying to ignore the huge houses and spacious lots that were everywhere. Every now and then he would pass back by Roderich's home but the Passat that he'd failed to notice the absence of at first, did not magically appear.

So, it wasn't long until Gilbert headed back into the city where he found himself crashed on Antonio's couch with a cold beer in his hands, his friend reclined on the sofa across from him, concerned green eyes trained on Gil's somber face. Francis was off with his Englishman that evening so it was just the two of them keeping each other company on a quiet Saturday night.

"The thing is," Gilbert said with a sigh, "I don't even have his number. So I can't even ask him where he was.  _I don't even have his number,_ Toni. How am I supposed to get to know him if I don't even know how to contact him?"

"You know, there are more things involved in getting to know people than just their phone numbers, Gilbert," Antonio quietly said. "That in itself is something to work towards. Think of it as just a step forward in your progress." Gil shook his head, tipping his head back to allow the smooth beer to cool his throat.

"But it's always just  _me_ that has to take the initiatives for everything. Roderich probably doesn't even care about me in any way that's remotely close to how I  _want_ him to care about me."

"Maybe not yet," Antonio agreed. "But that's why you have to  _make_ him care. You're good at getting people to do what they might not otherwise want to. Please don't give up yet if you really have feelings for him." Gilbert moaned quietly, letting his head fall back onto the back of the couch.

"Yeah, I know."

"Wait for the next time you see him and ask him somewhere innocent. Just go with your gut instinct  _mi amigo._ It'll all work itself out somehow." Gilbert smiled at his best friend. Toni was one of the best guys you could go to when feeling down. He wouldn't make fun of you or go overboard with things as Francis might. He had a soft heart and a kind personality and Gilbert was sure that although Antonio might complain about how cold Lovino was sometimes, he knew that Lovi wouldn't let Antonio out of his grasp anytime soon.

~{*}~

Roderich and Lilly went out to a simple restaurant dinner after paying their respects to the grave sites. Lilli was talkative during the dinner, her eyes calm and her smile genuine, much to Roderich's relief. The monthly visits had seemed to stop affecting her like they used to quite a while ago. Well, it had been several years now. It only served to remind Roderich how strong Lilli actually was, no matter how petite she might look. 

Lilli pressingly asked him details about his trip to the publishing company earlier that week and also how the work on his new piece was progressing. They passed dinner this way until the sun had all but disappeared, the sunset hidden from view behind the thick layer of clouds that finally decided to unleash its rain upon the city as the two of them quickly made their way back into their car.

It wasn't until they were nearly home, the windshield wipers whipping back and forth across the wet glass, that Roderich realized that with their visit to the graves, he had probably missed Gilbert's visit.

~{*}~

Gilbert happily welcomed Ludwig and Feliciano home on Sunday, greeting them both at the airport with exuberant hugs. Feliciano clung to his coat as Ludwig grabbed their suitcases from the carousel, Feli anxiously making sure that Gilbert was okay while simultaneously filling him in on how the fashion show had gone and also relaying Lovino's greetings both to him and Antonio. Gilbert realized how much he had missed the two of them that week. Being at home by yourself seemed so awesome when you were younger but man could it get lonely as an adult.

As Feliciano busied himself in the kitchen that night, having promised Gilbert pasta, Gil found himself sitting on the living room couch with Ludwig, his younger brother having said that he wanted to talk.

"Are you alright, Gil?" Ludwig asked as they sat down. His clear blue eyes stared at Gilbert seriously. Gil shifted a little under his gaze. How did Lud always seem to know when there was something on his mind?

"What are you talking about?" Gil said, vainly trying to evade the question.

"Don't give me that. You've been quieter since we got back. Did something happen?" Gilbert tossed around the idea of finding some excuse for only a moment before deciding to just spill. Knowing Ludwig he would probably find out something some way or another.

"Do...you remember that composer at that charity concert we went to a couple of weeks ago?" Ludwig tilted his head in confusion.

"The one affiliated with your company? Roderich...something?"

"Edelstein. Yeah. That one. Well..." Gil reached back to sheepishly scratch the back of his head, meeting his brother's gaze hesitantly.

"I've kind of kept in contact with him since then and I guess... I don't know. I've been...running into him a lot lately, you could say."

"...I see..." Ludwig slowly said, his appraising blue eyes scanning Gilbert's face. The corner of his mouth ticked up in an almost-smile. "He seemed like a handful from the little I saw of him. Don't make a nuisance of yourself, now." A part of Gil sighed in relief that Ludwig wouldn't push his questioning as a smirk crossed his face.

"Come now _bruder._ Who in their right minds would ever consider  _me_ a nuisance?"

"Well..."

"Luddy! Gil! Pasta's ready!"

"C'mon," Gilbert said, rising up and patting his brother on the shoulder. "Your adorable boyfriend made dinner."

~{*}~

Lilli had a late-night shift on Sunday and as Roderich sat at his piano in the rapidly darkening room, he realized that somewhere along the line he had recently began to notice the silence a lot more. Had the large home always been this  _quiet_? He suddenly felt the urge to talk to somebody, anybody. He momentarily considered his phone, gazing at the sad number of contacts on the device. Well, when in doubt, Roderich's fallback was, and always would be music.

Restless, he began to play the song he had begun composing the other day, the one inspired by a memory of two little boys freely playing in the backyard. The notes were happy and leaping and totally carefree. However, the piece was still incomplete and unnamed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this chapter didn't come as /too/ much of a surprise haha. Hopefully you're all just curious as to how things went down.  
> This is kinda short and I apologize for that but I suddenly cut the chapter in half because I thought the flow would work better another way.  
> Thank you for reading!! :)


	11. A (Supposedly) Sure-Fire Plan

Monday morning once again found Gilbert blearily stumbling into work, having had an uneasy sleep the night before even with the fact that both Ludwig and Feli were home once more. Despite his confident attitude around his brother regarding whether or not he was being a nuisance to Roderich, a little piece of Gilbert couldn't help but be uncertain as to if that were actually the case. This running around in circles he was doing was definitely not an asset to his mental state considering he was showing up to work drowsy and only half-coherent more than half of the time. As he collected his assignments for the day, Gil took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. Whatever was happening between him and Roderich right now (and only did he admit in a far back corner of his mind that he might be the only one who thought  _anything_ was happening between them), it would have to be put on the back burner for now. He had a job to do. Something would work out with the little prince. He would  _make_ something work. But there was time to worry about that later.  _I won't think about him today,_ Gilbert decided as he started up the printers.  _Get yourself together Beilschmidt. You're too awesome to be running your mind into the ground like this._ _  
_

~{*}~

_Why am I here?_ Roderich thought despairingly to himself as he stopped outside of the publishing company that he had only visited for the first time exactly the week before. It was a cloudy day but mild for this early in April and Roderich loosened his scarf as he hesitantly stepped towards the front doors of the building, mentally kicking himself and trying to work out why he had thought it would be a good idea to go out this morning.

He had woken up rather late, actually. It was almost ten by the time he had slowly risen from under his pile of blankets. After slowly eating the simple breakfast he had made for himself, Lilli having come home much earlier that morning and probably still fast asleep, he had spent the next hour and a bit at his desk in the music room, editing the little tunes he had managed to scrape together over the past few weeks. It wasn't long before he realized that he had gotten barely anything done and had been sitting there listlessly for the past fifteen minutes, staring at the same few notes without really seeing them. Sighing, he had stretched his arms over his head, trying to get the kinks out of his back from sitting at the desk for so long when his phone had suddenly vibrated from where he had laid it before starting work. It had been a text from Elizaveta asking about how he and Lilli were and Roderich had smiled slightly, knowing that she had remembered, as she always did, their ritual for the last Saturday of every month. From that point on, it seemed that his train of thought had taken several unexpected detours that involved not only Eliza but also a certain pale-haired, red-eyed guy that worked for her, a certain man whose visit, Roderich suddenly realized, he had probably missed while he was gone on Saturday. 

Violet eyes suddenly widened and the next thing Roderich knew, he had scribbled a note for Lilli letting her know that he was going out, and was out the door in record time. And now, he was here.

_I guess I might as well go visit Elizaveta now that I'm here,_ Roderich thought to himself as he walked through the front doors, stepping into the lobby and nodding at the receptionist who seemed to recognize him and waved him on through. He almost believed himself as he stepped up to the elevator and pressed the call button.  _Yeah, I can reassure her in person now that we're both fine. Right. She'll probably be relieved that I'm actually taking the initiative for once and going outside the house without anyone forcing me._

However, once he got into the elevator and the doors closed behind him, he found himself staring at the buttons waiting to be pressed. He acknowledged the presence of the second floor button, the one that would take him to Elizaveta's office and his hand hovered over it for a brief moment before his eyes were arrested by the button at the bottom, the one with the "B" label. He considered both buttons for the briefest of moments, biting his lip slightly before he visibly took a deep breath and pressed the button labeled "B". It glowed with a finality that instantly made him regret his decision as the elevator lurched downwards to the floor below. The elevator stopped and the doors opened with a _ding,_ leaving Roderich paused in the doorway, looking out at the quiet hallway that greeted him though just down the hall he could see the large double doors leading to where all the printers were kept, the muffled noises from the big room travelling over to where he was.  _I should just get back in and pretend I was never here,_ Roderich thought despairingly even as he stepped out into the hallway. He hesitantly stepped towards the doors as he checked his watch. It was almost right on noon. So, it wasn't a total surprise to Roderich, knowing his own luck well enough, that as soon as he pushed open the doors that led into the printing room, he was immediately faced with surprised reddish eyes as Gilbert almost ran right into him on his way out.

"Ah," Roderich said, stepping backwards and clearing his throat awkwardly. "Gilbert. I was..." Roderich let his words trail off as he realized that he had absolutely no excuse to be down there at any given point in time. How was he going to try and explain himself out of this one? 

~{*}~

Gilbert could feel his heart hammering a thousand miles an hour in his chest even as he disguised his shock at seeing Roderich appear so randomly before him. _So much for not thinking about him today,_ he wryly thought even as he picked his mind up from where it had fallen in surprise mixed with glee and hope and tried to compose himself. Roderich was looking nervous too apparently, though for what reason Gilbert couldn't begin to understand.

"That was generous of you to come pay us a visit down here in the depths after your meeting with Elizaveta, Little Master," he quickly said as soon as it was apparent that Roderich wasn't going to add anything to his trailed-off sentence. Roderich's violet eyes quickly looked back up to meet his own from where they had been before trained on the ground between them. "You were in a meeting with Eliza earlier right?" Roderich slowly nodded.

"Yes. Of course. It took less time than expected so I figured I may as well stop by and say hello." Gilbert tried to bite back the pain that the fact that he hadn't come to specifically see him caused him and reached up to run his hand through his hair. He remembered how Roderich and Lilli hadn't been around on Saturday and his emotions were once again thrown back into that dark place of uncertainty that he had become familiar with as of late. 

"My break is just starting now," Gil slowly said, stepping forwards so that Roderich had to back up, both of them ending back on the quiet side of the printing room doors. "Care to join me? If you have anything better to do that's fine," he quickly added as he watched Roderich's expression change ever so slightly, becoming a bit more uncertain as Gil edged closer. But Roderich shook his head, offering Gilbert a small smile.

"No, I do not have any other plans. I'll accept your invitation." Gilbert's heart was honestly on the verge of giving out. This was too much, what was even happening? What kind of divine force took pleasure in messing with him and his emotions?

"Is the same cafe from last time alright?" Gilbert asked as he grabbed his things and led Roderich out into the street.

"That's fine," Roderich replied as they walked side-by-side in silence, giving Gilbert a much-needed opportunity to catch his breath and bring his thoughts to order. But in doing so, he for once could not think of a single thing to say so they instead made it all the way into the cafe and slid into the seats by the window without speaking a single word. Gilbert could see Roderich glancing at him every so often and he tried to bury his nose deeper into the menu as he reined in his flying thoughts. How was it that just the fact that Roderich had thought to come say hello, even if only as an afterthought, was able to bring him to such heights of elation?  _So pathetic,_ Gilbert thought as he put his menu back down and looked up at the waitress who had come to serve them, giving her the usual friendly smile.

"Usual?" She asked. Gilbert nodded. "And a coffee, please." 

"And for you, sir?" She said, turning to Roderich. 

"The Dobos torteand a coffee, please," Roderich replied, handing back his menu. Gilbert found himself to be grinning as the waitress walked away.

"You really do have a sweet tooth little prince. First the Sachertorte and now the Dobos torte. I might have underestimated your love for sweets." Roderich shifted a little in his seat, frowning just slightly enough for it to be called a pout. _  
_

"Is that really so surprising? I enjoy baking myself so I like to take any opportunity I have to taste the works of the best." Gilbert laughed out loud as he tried to squish the image of Roderich in an apron, bending over an oven from his mind.

"Whoa, the great composer of our time  _baking?_ Now that must be a sight to see. I wanna taste one of your cakes one day, Little Master. Just to make sure that you aren't totally making this all up." Roderich frowned indignantly at him from across the small table as the waitress placed down their respective coffees.

"Really, you think I would make up something like that? It won't take much to prove it. Maybe Saturday I shall make one if only to protect my honour as an artist." Something in Gilbert's stomach lurched as he realized that Roderich had been the one to bring up his Saturday visits which had been regular until that last Saturday. With that realization, Gilbert remembered how confused he had felt, how lonely and  _left behind_ he had seemed, even if it was all probably just an overreaction on his part. One thing about emotions is that you can't just stop them from happening, no matter how stupid they might be. 

"Speaking of Saturday," Gil slowly said, "I stopped by this Saturday but no one was home." He couldn't believe how casually that statement had come out when it felt like his very survival was depending on Roderich's next words. The composer blinked at him in surprise, his cup of coffee pausing centimeters from his lips.

"Ah. Yes. Lilli and I had...previous commitments that we had to attend to." Roderich placed his cup down on the table, staring down at the steaming dark liquid. "I should have somehow let you know. I'm sorry." The fact that Roderich was apologizing to him made Gilbert feel like shit. He also realized that he had probably made himself sound like some kind of a loser with no other friends that he could hang out with on Saturdays. And that was definitely not the truth.

"Haha really?" Gil laughed, smirking lightly at the man. "I thought that Roderich Edelstein was always cooped up in his castle composing some great masterpiece." Roderich let out a small huff that could almost count as a laugh as the waitress put their food in front of them.

"I wish that was the way it worked," he quietly said, eyes still trained on the table. Gil suddenly felt terrible about teasing him like that.

"Don't tell me you're still having troubles composing," Gil said disbelievingly as he took a bite of his sandwich. 

Roderich shrugged slightly as he picked up his fork and slowly cut a small piece of cake. "There is only so much inspiration you can draw from past memories, it seems. And that is the only way I know how to create, apparently." Gilbert put his sandwich down as he chewed, staring intently at the Austrian across from him as he took a small bite of his cake. He watched as he sighed lightly as he chewed, the briefest, smallest expression of bliss crossing his face before returning to his usual stoic manner. And, Gilbert was once more struck dumb with how beautiful Roderich was. But now, after seeing him in environments other than the stage, he could also see the signs of the stress that the composer must be carrying around with him. Those small creases between his dark eyebrows, the bags under his purplish eyes, those soft sighs that he noticed happened a lot - all of these things showed an unease of spirit and a troubled mind that was constantly searching for new ideas in old places. It hurt Gil to see these weaknesses, these chinks in Roderich's armor, even if in some strange way it seemed to humanize him somewhat and make him more obtainable knowing that he too was human. But Gilbert couldn't help but believe that he himself wouldn't feel complete unless Roderich felt so as well. And that was only if Gilbert was the one to make him feel like that. 

_Inspiration from experiences. I guess that makes sense,_ Gilbert thought as he sipped his coffee. "Well, if you need new inspiration, doesn't that just mean that you need to make new memories?" That was mostly just Gil thinking out loud but Roderich's eyes snapped up to look at him quizzically. 

"Perhaps, although I have no idea how that would work. It's not as if you can force inspiring memories and experiences on somebody."

_But what if you can...?_ Gilbert's mind was suddenly rushing ahead at frightening speeds as light bulbs went off every which way and plans began to form inside his head. "That's it!" He exclaimed excitedly, slapping his hand down on the table, making Roderich jump. 

"What's it?" Roderich demanded, watching with wide eyes as Gilbert suddenly stood, placing his money for his lunch on the table. 

"Don't you worry, Little Master," Gil said with a grin, stepping around the table and patting Roderich on the shoulder. "I have a plan."  _That will kill two birds with one stone,_ he silently added. 

"W-what on earth are you talking about?" Roderich asked in confusion.

"You'll see," Gil said, winking at Roderich as he waved goodbye, all of a sudden in a hurry to go back to work and make the week end  _faster._ "Be ready to go out on Saturday. And have that cake baked by eleven!" With that, Gilbert all but ran out the door of the cafe and back to the publishing company, excitement coiling in his chest. This was going to be the start of something big. He could feel it.

~{*}~

Roderich sat stunned for several moments in the wake of Gilbert's rapid exit, still attempting to process what the man had been going on about.  _Be ready to go out on Saturday? Go out? Where?_ Roderich sighed once more and took another bite of the chocolate and caramel cake. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out what he had been going on about but he had the impression that he was going to find out whether he wanted to or not.  _Lilli will be happy that I'm going out somewhere with someone other than her or Eliza I suppose,_ he thought as he got up from the table and walked out the door. _Even t_ _hough it is work related...I think._ It wasn't until Roderich was almost halfway home that he realized that he never did go visit Elizaveta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I'm back (for now) and yes this is late (again).   
> University hit me like a train and I'm still not recovered (and who knows if I ever will be) but I was determined to continue this so here you are.  
> Now we can get into the 'actual' story (finally) (wow I forgot how long this thing is good lord).
> 
> If you're still here with me, I am sending you many hugs your way. Thanks for putting up with my horribly sporadic updates. You're the best!
> 
> And as always, thank you so much for reading.


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